Dead Last
by ChargaaKilla
Summary: The cast of Left 4 Dead as they go through Blood Harvest, The Sacrifice and afterward. Francis, Zoey, Bill, Louis. Francis x Other Character. First attempt at writing fiction, fun to write and hope you like it.
1. Stinger

Ch1 Stinger

For the third time in an hour, cawing erupted behind them, those damned crows, disturbed by something. Francis glanced back toward Bill, their eyes met, and the group came to a stop. "What's going on, guys?" Louis called to them.

"Quiet!" Bill hissed in a low voice. "I think we have some company behind us!"

Francis nodded, adding with a deep growl, "Probably another of those damn smokers creeping up on us. I hate smokers!"

"Big surprise there," Zoey commented, rolling her eyes, her breath a white mist in the cold fall air. She'd lost track of the things that Francis claimed to hate, it would be easier to keep track of the short list of things he didn't hate. So far, there was only one item on that list, vests.

"Can the chit-chat, people!" Bill demanded in a whisper, his voice tense. "I don't know what the hell it is, but I get the uneasy feeling we are being stalked."

The woods were dense, and the idea of a specially mutated zombie, or more, creeping up behind them was not a comforting one. They were hoping to get through this park to the army base they had heard about, but the woods were full of zombies, and between the trees and the ever-present chilly mist surrounding them and decreasing visibility, Bill wondered again whether this was such a good plan.

Well, it wasn't like they had many options, he reminded himself. When the C-130 crash-landed in that field, the four of them were lucky enough to walk away from it, unlike the pilot, but that might be where their luck ended. They had their weapons and a little ammo, but little clue about where they were heading and what they might be wandering into. If they were going to make it to the army base, they were going to have to keep it together and act with extreme caution. They couldn't afford to have a battle right now with a horde of zombies triggered by a boomer, smoker, hunter, or worse yet, a tank. He was just hoping that somewhere on their path they would find a safe-room and be able to resupply and maybe even get something to eat. He looked at his companions thoughtfully, thinking what an odd group they made up. Francis, a menacing-looking, tattooed biker thug; Zoey, a college girl; Louis a former store manager and tech-geek, and of course Bill himself; ex-soldier, 'Nam vet and the default leader of this motley crew. Over the past few weeks, he'd begun to think of them all as his little family, and he was determined to see them all to safety or die trying.

"Francis", Bill said to the hulking, tattoo-covered man currently glaring suspiciously behind them, "I'm thinking we should lay a little ambush of our own, at least try to get some idea about who or what is following us."

"Huh," Francis grunted. "You read my mind, old man."

"Didn't think he could read anything that small anymore", snickered Zoey. Louis unsuccessfully suppressed a giggle. Joking about Francis and his stupidity had become a favorite theme between the two.

Francis merely flicked an annoyed glance her way. Let them think whatever, he didn't give a damn anyway. Smart-mouthed, spoiled, little college girl and that "Merry Sunshine" tie-wearing drone could make all the jokes they wanted, as long as they fought hard and held together long enough to help him get out of this shit-hole. He hated the woods, and traipsing through it in the cold mist had not improved his opinion of it, or his disposition.

Ignoring them, Francis spoke to Bill, "How 'bout I head back to that bridge we just crossed, see whether anything comes up and tries to come across. Whatever it is will be exposed on the bridge, if it's a vampire I'll have a good shot at it. You all hang back here, out of sight and if you hear any shooting, you'll know there're vampires on our tail. If it ain't too much trouble, you can head back to the bridge and maybe help shoot a few. If I don't see anything in the next 30 minutes, I'll come on back."

"All right then, sounds like a plan," agreed Bill. He didn't really like the idea of sending only one of them back, but it was better for one person to remain silent and undetected along their back-trail than to send any of the less-skilled members of the group with Francis only to mess up the ambush. Plus, they were fairly close to the bridge, if there was any serious trouble they could be there quickly. The thought of the giant of a man needing any kind of help from an old man, a young woman and a former store manager brought the smallest hint of a smile to Bill's grizzled face.

Over the last few weeks, he observed that Francis was a deadly shot and quicker with a gun than just about anybody Bill had ever known. Considering all of the men Bill had known in his 'Nam days, that was saying one hell of a lot. He could only speculate how Francis came to be so good with a gun, no doubt it was part of his appeal to the Hell's Legion "organization" he had belonged to. No, Bill was confident that Francis could take care of himself. Meanwhile, he would stay with Zoey and Louis, and try to keep everyone quiet and concealed in case they were needed.

Francis crept along the trail, keeping to the trees and cover as much as possible. For such a big man, he moved almost silently. Francis had plenty of experience creeping up on things. An enforcer for the Hell's Legion motorcycle club, he had learned over the years how to stealthily sneak up on and surprise even the most jumpy target. Like a giant cat, he silently slid through the shadows and took up a post well within the shade of a large pine tree. This gave him a good view of the approach to the bridge, and he would have plenty of time to aim and shoot at anything attempting to cross. Glancing at his badly battered watch, he crouched down above the musty damp pine needles for the wait.


	2. Dead Meet

It didn't take long. Just as he cast another glance at his watch, he caught a glimpse of movement through the trees on the other side of the bridge. Just a flicker of movement, then nothing more. He was beginning to think he had imagined it, when a shape quietly broke away from the shadows along the edge of the path and began to approach the bridge. The shape seemed to be casting about, looking for something, approaching the bridge in a crouch.

From this distance, with all of the mist, it was hard to tell exactly what it was, but the crouching made him think of the zombies they had taken to calling "hunters". The hunters were typically dressed in dark clothing, they could jump great distances and liked to pounce on the survivors, pinning them down while ripping at them with long claws. Francis had the scars to prove exactly how sharp those claws were.

He slowly lowered a knee to the ground and raised the shotgun to aim at the figure. He held his breath, deciding where he could best place a headshot. His finger had just begun to tighten on the trigger when he distinctly heard the creature grumble, "Goddamnit! Another shitty little rope bridge!" He was so surprised, he damn near fired off the shot. A real person, alone, in these god-forsaken woods? Who the hell would be crazy enough to be out in the vampire-infested woods by themselves? And why was he following them? He was sure as hell going to find out before this guy got any closer to his group.

The man dropped on one knee and stared across the bridge, apparently scanning for trouble. Francis froze, not daring to twitch a muscle in case he was spotted. Finally, the stranger ventured out onto the wobbly bridge and began to cross. The bridge trembled and swayed, eliciting more grumbling from the man. He could now see that the stranger had a hunting bow in one hand, a walking stick in the other, and was carrying a large hiker's pack. He waited until the man was nearly on his end of the bridge, before stepping from the shadows.

"Hey, you!" he growled in a menacing tone, "Stop where you are and throw down your weapons!"

The stranger froze, eying Francis cautiously. "Uh, why?" he replied.

"What?!" Francis rumbled, "What the hell do you mean, "why"? Because I fuckin' said so, and I have a gun trained on you that could make a hole the size of a fuckin' dinner plate!"

"Huh", said the man, "But it seems to me, if you really wanted to shoot me, you could have already done it, and spared us this scintillating conversation."

While talking, the man had been steadily backing away from Francis, who was a bit confused by this strange turn of events, as well as the use of the word "scintillating", truth be told. In the past, when he pointed a gun at somebody, they usually complied, and quickly, without a lot of big words. In the few seconds while he was contemplating this, the man had backed nearly to the other end of the bridge.

Francis made up his mind, this guy was up to something, probably scouting for a larger group, maybe they were planning on jumping his group and stealing what few supplies and weapons they had. Other survivors he had met since the Green Flu hit were often worse than the zombies themselves. He trained his gun carefully on the man. "Mister", he said, "you better freeze and put everything on the ground right now or I can help you do it with some lead!"

The man stood uncertainly, clearly weighing his chances at escape, probably hoping the bridge would slow Francis down enough for him to get away.

"Don't!", warned Francis in his most menacing growl as he quickly advanced toward him, gun never wavering from his target.

Finally, the man threw down the bow, shed a holster with sidearm and dropped the large pack on the ground next to the bridge. He stood waiting, leaning on the walking staff as Francis approached.

"Drop the stick", Francis demanded, gesturing toward the ground with his gun.

With a sigh of resignation, the man threw the staff down and said, "Happy? Now what?"

Good question, Francis thought. He hadn't thought quite that far ahead, but then again, he never did. What should he do with the guy now? Well, first things first, he wanted to have a closer look at him and what he was packing, particularly if he had any other weapons with him.

Francis approached the stranger, noting how small the guy was in comparison to himself. Hell, he thought, I think he's only a little taller than Zoey. He grabbed the holster and pistol off the ground, tossing it further away, over next to the pack. Francis kept his gun at his hip, still trained on the stranger as he approached the man's pack, even though clearly this guy was no physical threat to him. He glanced down. Whoaa…the guy actually had a ninja sword strapped to the back of his pack! Cool, he'd always wanted one of those! Without thinking, he reached down to grab it and check it out.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of movement, right before the walking staff hit the back of his head with a crack. Luckily for him, he had the skull of an ox and the blow was more painful than disabling. With an enraged roar, he brought his shotty to bear on the man, but instantly felt a hard hit on the barrel, which threw it to the side. The stranger quickly smashed the staff down on Francis' hands and arms, trying to force him to drop the gun. When that didn't work, the man quickly darted in next to the barrel, pressing Francis' trigger finger, firing the weapon and then tried to spin it out his grasp by yanking the stock. Francis barely managed to hang on, now he would need to chamber another shell before he could fire again, and the stranger was now intent on making sure he never had the chance. When he failed to dislodge the weapon, the man instantly jumped back and using his staff as a lever finally managed to pry the gun away from Francis' battered hands. It disappeared over the side of the bridge, falling into the gully.

Francis was furious, he was determined to make him pay for that. He would wring his fucking neck if it were the last thing he ever did. He reached for his pistol, but it was batted away as soon as it cleared the holster, to join his shotty in the abyss. Practically howling in fury, he threw himself at his adversary, bearing down on him like a rabid bull, trying to force him down to the ground. The man tried to fend him off with his staff, twirling it quickly to deflect his attack, but he shook the blows off as if they were from a toothpick. The man leapt and dodged around him, as he tried to land punches. It was frustrating, like trying to fight a fucking squirrel, Francis thought to himself. Finally, Francis managed to grab him by the shoulder and fling him to the ground, with himself on top. Or so he thought. In an instant, Francis found himself catapulted in the air to land heavily on his back.

"What the hell…?" Francis snarled, as he struggled to right himself. Before he could regroup, however, he was tackled back to the ground. He found himself looking up through the trees, an iron arm encompassing his massive neck, legs painfully constricting his lungs in a body lock and the sounds of heavy breathing seemed to fade far, far away to be replaced by a dull ringing, as his sight started to tunnel down.

At the sound of the shotgun blast, Bill, Zoey and Louis jumped to their feet and quickly jogged over the small hill toward the bridge. They could see some kind of a struggle going on at the other end of the bridge, it looked like Francis was fighting with a hunter. By the time they got to the bridge, Francis appeared to be losing the fight, struggling weakly to escape the grasp of the zombie, who was oddly not on top, as usual for a hunter.

Bill cursed, charging onto the bridge and aiming his M-16, but there was no shot to make, Francis was on top and the zombie was underneath him, somehow squeezing the life out of him. As Bill got closer, he saw that Francis was caught in a mata leão choke, along with a body lock, and quickly realized this was no zombie.

"Turn him loose!" Bill demanded in a loud voice, seeing that Francis had now gone limp in the "kill the lion" chokehold of the stranger. When his command went unheeded, he quickly fired a round from the M-16 into the ground near the combatants and yelled, "NOW!"

Seeming to see them for the first time, the stranger quickly released his hold on Francis, and started to struggle out from under his large, unyielding bulk, shoving his limp body aside with his boots.

Bill rapidly assessed the situation, sizing up the stranger as he started to push himself off the ground. An unimposing man, slightly shorter than Bill, with a medium build, he was dressed completely in forest camo: fatigues, hoodie, and a knit hat. His icy blue eyes darted quickly between Bill and the others, and he seemed poised for flight. Bill observed him closely, and quickly decided he could be a danger to their group. Did he attack Francis? The inescapable fact that this man was able to disarm and easily defeat the strongest and toughest member of their group in such a short amount of time and without any apparent damage to himself was very alarming to Bill.

"Mister, get down on your knees, cross your ankles, put your hands on your head with fingers interlaced! DO IT NOW!" Bill commanded while gesturing with his M16, a determined and grim look on his face.

The man gazed intently at Bill and the M16 aimed at him, seeming to study him closely. He then glanced at Zoey and Louis with their weapons, and seeing that there was little choice, he slowly knelt and obeyed.

As Bill dealt with the attacker, Zoey and Louis tended to Francis, who oddly enough had begun to snore. "Hey, man! Wake up!" yelled Louis, while they tried to haul the big man to a sitting position. Zoey lightly slapped Francis' face, trying to awaken him.

"Wha'…Wha' happened?" asked Francis, startling back into consciousness, unsteadily attempting to remain upright.

"Little guy over there kicked your ass, knocked you the fuck out!" said Louis, as he tried to steady Francis' considerable bulk.

"No, seriously, what happened?" Francis asked again, fuzzily trying to recollect recent events.

"He's not kidding, Francis. That guy looked like he was more than half-way to killing you when we ran up," said Zoey. She gave him a worried look, she'd never seen the big guy this out of it, he'd always seemed so indestructible to her. Sure, Francis could be an annoying jackass, but he was their annoying jackass and she hated to see anybody mess him up like this.

With their help, Francis staggered to his feet, suddenly remembering his lost weapons. Growling, "I'll kill that son of a bitch!", he stepped toward the kneeling man.

"NO, Francis!" Bill commanded loudly, "You stay back away from him!" Francis glowered at Bill, but backed off, weaving somewhat unsteadily on his feet.

"Louis", Bill said, "Take this rope and tightly tie his hands together behind his back". Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out some rope, heavy twine really, that he kept handy there. Bill noted that the stranger instantly became very tense, like a coiled spring about to unwind. He was getting ready to do something, that much was clear to Bill.

"Mister, don't do it…" Bill warned, as he trained his rifle back on the man, "I will drill you if you so much as twitch the wrong way. I suggest you stand down if you want to stay in one piece." The man shot a glance at Bill, then visibly shuddered and exhaled as he seemed to force himself to relax, his shoulders and head sagging down.

"Louis, go ahead and tie him up", Bill said, handing the twine over.

"You're fuckin' kiddin' me, right?" The stranger protested, glaring up at Bill. "There's four of you, you're all armed and you've got King-fuckin'-Kong over there" he said as he gestured at Francis with his chin, "and you have to tie ME up? Seriously? What are you, a bunch of cowards?"

Francis growled, taking a step toward the man.

Again, Bill yelled, "NO, Francis! And it's for your own safety, Mister, as well as ours, for the moment."

Giving a snort of disgust the man said, "Yeah, that's what the cops always like to say. It's a total crock of shit." Bill couldn't help but twitch his lip in a small smile, hearing one of his favorite expressions.

"Well, Mister, you want to tell us who you are and what you're doing out here? Are you alone?" asked Bill. The man merely stared sullenly at the ground as Louis quickly yanked his hands behind him.

Giving a grunt of pain, the man hissed a curse and glared over his shoulder at Louis as he resisted his pull. "Watch what the fuck you're doin' there! That's my bad shoulder, it don't go back that far!"

"Sorry, man." Louis eased off a bit, rearranged the stranger's hands behind his back and started to work on tying them securely. Trussing people up wasn't exactly in his job description, he wasn't sure how he should be doing this.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the silence, and hoping to draw some information from the stranger, Bill offered, "Well, my name is Bill." The man continued to glare at the ground, so Bill forged on, "That's Francis."

The man smirked, looking over at Francis. "Yeah, Fraaannncis", he said as he drawled the name out with a mocking tone, "and I have met. How was the nap, big boy? Restful?" He gave an amused chuckle.

Francis, face flushing in anger and giant fists balling up, jumped towards him, forcing Bill to step in between them and warn him off again.

"Mister, you have to be plain crazy to talk to him like that. Take my advice and leave him the hell alone and he just might not kill you", said Louis as he finished tying his hands.

"And that fellow behind you, giving you very good advice, is Louis", said Bill. "The young lady over there is Zoey", he continued.

Their captive merely stared at the ground, saying with a flat tone, "Charmed".

Francis glared at him, he couldn't wait to pound the shit out of that guy, first chance he got. But first he was going to root around in the guy's pack and see what he had. He grabbed the pack, taking out the ninja sword, which had first caught his eye. It was a beauty, looked really sharp, too. Then he checked out the holstered pistol, whistling appreciatively as he withdrew it and examined it. A .50 caliber Desert Eagle, with a foregrip that held an extra clip of ammo, laser sights and a flashlight on the rails. Shit, this was perfect for him. He slid on the holster and adjusted it, grinning as he holstered the weapon. It was more than a fair replacement for the pistol he'd lost off the bridge.

The stranger, seeing him start going through his things and helping himself, immediately piped up. "Hey, get the hell away from my stuff!"

"Heh", said Francis with a small chuckle, "And just what are YOU going to do about it? Not much… I think I'll help myself to this sword, thanks for the Eagle too. Consider it a trade for the shotgun and pistol you put in the gully…"

"So, you're not just cowards, you're fuckin' thieves, too. Good to know", muttered the man bitterly.

"What did you just say?" challenged Francis, hefting the sword up.

The man muttered curses as he glared at Francis and yanked at the restraints in frustration. "I'm sayin' untie me and bring it, bitch." He growled at Francis. "We'll see who walks away with my stuff, or are you afraid of a fair fight?"

Francis sneered and then gave a predatory, toothy smirk. "Sounds good to me, I'll wipe the ground with that smart mouth of yours after I rip your fuckin' head off. We'll see who's the bitch here."

"Better bring your A game this time around. 'Cause if that's all you got, I'm gonna put you down for a much longer nap this time, cupcake." He sneered back at Francis.

Francis looked down at him with astonishment. Was this little guy really talking smack to him? He couldn't even remember the last time that had happened, it'd been so long. Most people practically wet themselves in fear at the prospect of having to fight him, this guy was certifiable, or delusional. He got lucky once, but Francis would make sure that didn't happen again.

The man took his hesitation as an indication that he was reluctant to fight. "Hey, if you're afraid to untie me, I understand. I mean, I did give you an ass kicking just a little while ago. Tell you what, you can leave me tied and I'll even let you take the first shot, just tell Grandpa and his friends here to stand aside. Even a coward couldn't resist that, right?" He gave a very unpleasant sneer to Francis.

Francis threw the sword to the ground with a snarl and whipped out his combat knife as he stalked up to the kneeling man, who suddenly leapt to his feet.

Bill wasn't sure whether Francis meant to gut the guy or cut his hands free, but whichever it was, he was having none of it.

"Forget it Francis, back off!" Bill interrupted them, moving swiftly to stand between Francis and the man. He grabbed the stranger by one of his bound arms and roughly jerked him back to his knees. "We don't have time for this shit! Haven't you had enough fighting for one day?"

"Bill, stay the hell out of this. I'm gonna settle once and for all with this big mouthed little bitch. Out of the way, it ain't gonna take long…" Francis growled as he moved to go around Bill.

Bill brought his M16 up slightly and looked straight into Francis' eyes. "That's enough, Francis. There is NOT going to be another fight right now. Have I made myself clear?" He glared at Francis, who stared angrily back at him before shifting his eyes away, he knew that Bill meant business and wasn't going to let this go.

Francis scowled at him and shoved the knife back into its sheath angrily. He glared past Bill at the stranger and snarled, "This ain't over, asshole…"

Bill strongly suspected the outcome of a second fight would be even worse for Francis. He also suspected the stranger was deliberately goading Francis into doing something very foolish. He turned toward the man in an attempt to quiet him. "Forget it, mister. There's not going to be a rematch. Don't worry about your things, we'll sort it all out shortly. Cross the ankles and keep them there. Stop provoking Francis and I won't have to gag you." He gestured at him with the M16 and the man slowly complied, glowering balefully at them.

"So," Bill said, in a futile attempt to get the man to calm down and talk, "You can at least tell us your name, can't you?"

"Joe", the man practically spat it out as his blue eyes flashed with barely contained fury.

"Gotta last name?" asked Bill.

"Sure, it's Fuckoffndie", said the stranger, with a snort of derision.

"Joe Fuckoffndie, cute…"said Bill, with a tense smile, closing his eyes and rubbing his brow. This was getting to be a long goddamn day, he thought. That small break in his attention turned out to be critical. He missed the telltale signs that Francis was about to lose it, and so Bill was completely taken by surprise when he launched himself at the man.

A growl from Francis, followed by, "That fuckin' does it!" was all the warning he got. In two lightning quick steps Francis threw himself at their captive. He raised his fist to punch the man square in the face, but the stranger saw him coming and tried his best to dodge away from the punch. Somehow, he launched himself backward into a roll, struggling to his feet, and Francis missed. But the big man moved with freak speed, he was all over his smaller opponent before the man could move away, and the second part of his combination connected solidly. Instead of hitting him in the face as intended, however, Francis' fist landed with an audible crack to the side of his head. The blow was powerful, the man's body did an odd horizontal spin in the air before he slammed to the ground, face down, unmoving.

"Francis, what the HELL are you doing?!" bellowed Bill. "The man was tied, kneeling on the ground, for Chrissakes!"

"So? So what? He had it coming, between tryin' to kill me, and his smart fuckin' mouth. Karma's a real bitch," Francis replied with a sneer.

Bill groaned, wiping his free hand across his face. What the hell was he going to do with this impulsive jackass? Francis walked over to the man and, giving him a vicious kick in the side, booted his body over so that he lay on his back. Francis was really disappointed that the guy had gone out with just one punch, he would have liked to punish him a bit more. A thick trail of dark blood was running from his nose, a large bruise starting to spread along the temple. Bill gazed down, wondering sadly if they had just killed one of the very few survivors they had met in their travels.


	3. Dead Ringer

Bill frowned as he looked down grimly at their unconscious and very unwelcome guest. "Well", he sighed in resignation, "The only good thing about this is that it makes this next part a helluva lot easier".

"What the hell are you talkin' about, Bill?" Francis asked, looking quizzically at him, as he used his boot to shove the stranger on the cheek in order to look at the other side of his face. He noted with some satisfaction that he had really done a serious number on the guy. He didn't look too good.

"Searching for weapons. I don't expect he would have been cooperative and it could have gotten dangerous. He looks like the type to be carrying a lot more…", observed Bill.

Kneeling down, he checked the man's pulse. After assuring himself that he was indeed still alive for the moment, Bill began patting him down, looking for any other weapons. Sure enough, under the sweatshirt at the waist in front, Bill found a holster with a small Beretta, along with a knife complete with knuckleduster. A search of the pockets yielded a small foldable skinning knife as well as a utility knife set. Patting down the arms yielded a large throwing knife on the left arm.

The guy likes knives, and he clearly liked to conceal his weapons, Bill thought. With that in mind, Bill unzipped the sweatshirt, finding some more throwing knives held in a little sheath sewn inside the sweatshirt. Looking at the pile of weapons he had already found, Bill shook his head and said, "The guy's a goddamn walking armory, and I'm only half done yet!" Damn good thing he had decided to tie him up, there's no telling what he would have done if his hands had been free. He could have easily killed somebody in a moment of inattention on Bill's part. And if Francis had been allowed to free him for a "fair" fight, there was a good chance it could have cost him his life. Bill's face paled just thinking about the tragedy they narrowly avoided.

Bill started to pat down around the man's neck, finding a small survival knife and compass on a rope lanyard. Moving across the shoulders, he felt some straps under the shirt, probably a holster of some kind. Yanking the shirt up to see what was hidden underneath, he stopped cold.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed loudly in shock and surprise.

The others turned toward him, looking at him curiously. "What, Bill?" they all asked nearly in unison.

"Holy shit!" he repeated, his face going a bit pale as he jerked his hands back, completely stunned and at a loss for any other words.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, old man?" asked Francis "Having a stroke or somethin'?"

"Noooo…," Bill said slowly, "Zoey, can you come over here for a second?"

"Sure, Bill. What's got you so freaked out?" the young woman replied.

"Ummmm, can you check something out for me? Am I going crazy, or is this man actually a woman?" said Bill slowly. They all turned as one and stared at the figure on the ground.

"Bullshit! Bill, that's not even funny!" yelled Francis, face beginning to flush with anger. Francis had had enough with the jokes at his expense that day. Between the stranger knocking him out in front of everyone and giving him shit about it afterwards, and now his own damn team giving it to him, he was about to lose it. Again.

"Francis, I'm not joking, I wish I was," Bill replied calmly, trying to defuse the anger of the big man. "Let's let Zoey have a closer look and see what she says", he continued, getting up and moving a respectful distance away. Bill was an old-fashioned gentleman and, well, one just doesn't poke and prod and examine a member of the opposite sex, particularly if they happen to be unconscious, it just wasn't done.

Zoey knelt down, peering under the shirt for a moment. Next she grabbed the pants near the fly, pulled them up and took a quick peak underneath. "Wow, just wow", she said, "I think you're right, Bill. Sports compression bra complete with matching breasts, no body hair, women's boxer shorts and no obvious male..um…equipment."

Turning to look at Francis with wide eyes, Zoey exclaimed, "Holy shit, dude! You sucker-punched a tied up GIRL!"

Francis' face paled, he looked absolutely mortified. Francis considered himself to be a total badass, bad to the core, and he would easily admit to being as mean as a snake, but he would never, ever even consider lifting his hand against a woman, never mind one that was tied up and helpless. It made him feel physically sick in the pit of his stomach that he had punched a woman like that. Hell, he might have even killed her, he thought glumly to himself. That was a devastating punch to land on a man, never mind a woman. I am such an idiot, he thought dismally to himself, I can't do anything right, I even manage to screw up a fucking apocalypse!

"Wooooooo", shouted Louis gleefully, a wide grin spreading on his face, "You know what else this means? A GIRL kicked Francis' ass and knocked him out! I can't believe it!" Louis was overjoyed to have the opportunity to gloat a little bit at Francis' expense. Served that oversized, macho dumbass right, in Louis' opinion. Francis was always belittling him, clearly thought he was a wimp. A little payback for that was sweet indeed.

At this reminder, Francis' face began to color with rage again. One more word out of that prick of a manager and he was going to be the target that Francis unloaded his massive current frustration on. "Remind me again, why am I not allowed to shoot you?" Francis snarled as he approached Louis.

Seeing the furious look come over the big man's face, Bill was quick to intervene. "Everybody just shut the hell up!" Bill said, glaring at all of them. "We need to figure out what we are going to do next, not waste time squabbling. What's done is done, we need to decide what we're going to do now!"

"All right, Bill," said Zoey "What are our options?"

"Well, we need to get the hell out of these woods, there is no way we can spend the night out here without sufficient ammo and no supplies to speak off. We would be sitting ducks. Now we have an unconscious person to deal with as well (he cast a frown at Francis). We need to decide whether we leave her behind or try to take her with us, first of all," replied Bill. "If we leave her here, it would probably be kinder just to shoot and kill her, rather than leave her to be eaten alive by the infected."

"No, Bill, just flat out NO!" said Zoey emphatically. "I am not leaving the first survivor we've encountered in weeks out here to die by themselves, especially since we are the ones who incapacitated her! If we do that, we're no better than the damned zombies we've been killing! I refuse to lose my humanity and become a monster! And I can't believe you would even suggest killing her! There's no way I'm going along with that!"

"Calm down, Zoey. I'm just thinking about the possible options out loud. I have to tell you that I'm really not sure that she will survive what looks to be a pretty serious head injury. She hasn't moved at all since she was hit, and I don't like the look of all that blood coming from the nose. So if we bring her with us, it could end up being a huge waste of what little energy we have. We could try to stay here and camp out, but these woods are full of infected and without any cover, I think we stand a good chance of all ending up dead tonight if we try that," replied Bill.

"OK," interjected Louis. "I'm with Zoey, I wouldn't feel right about leaving any person behind in these woods, it's a death sentence. So if we are going to bring her with us, the question is how can we manage it? We don't know how far it is to the nearest safe-room, or even if there IS a safe-room around. We need to figure out a way to carry her that will be easy and will share the load. Plus now we have another heavy pack to hump around, assuming we want to bring all her stuff with us."

Francis, looking completely dejected, added in, "I'll carry her, alone, if I have to. Somebody else will have to take her pack though." He felt responsible. He made up his mind that there was no way he would leave her to die here and have that be on his conscience, along with the long list of all the other shitty things he'd done in this life. He'd been trying to change his life around in the past few weeks but, predictably, it all blew up in his face.

"No, Francis," Bill said patiently. "Strong as you are, I doubt even you would make it very far carrying a person through this terrain. It's all we can do to carry our equipment as it is. Let's take stock of everything we've got to work with and maybe we can figure something out. I'll finish checking for weapons, you all go through her pack and see whether there is anything we can use."

They had been talking over by the bridge, when Bill turned back, he was shocked to see that the woman was no longer where they had left her.

Francis elbowed him, pointing a little ways toward the woods, where the woman was in the process of slowly escaping. It was easily the most pathetic escape attempt Francis could ever remember seeing, as she crawled on her knees, hands still tied behind her, inching along to fall forward with her head hitting the ground, then falling over on her side before struggling drunkenly back up to her knees. She managed to stagger to her feet and take a couple of sideways, wobbly steps before crashing back down to her side. Francis knew she was literally out on her feet at the moment, the lights were on, but nobody was really home. He walked over and pinned her down with a boot on her hip as she struggled briefly, glassy eyes rolling wildly, before slipping back into unconsciousness. He looked down, shaking his head, "Tougher than she looks, old man. Pretty sure she'll make it."

Bill wondered if she overheard them discussing whether they should kill her or not, hoping that wasn't the case.

The group started on their tasks. Bill turned the woman over to continue his weapons search. To his surprise, when he went to cut the twine binding her hands, he discovered that it was already partially cut and no longer tight. Scanning the ground, he found another small knife. Interesting, he thought. She may have been intentionally provoking them, probably had some sort of escape planned. Well, nice try, but she miscalculated Francis' quick temper, Bill thought wryly.

He continued his search, to see what other surprises she might have hidden away. His search yielded a large machete along with a tomahawk in a holster on the back of her belt, one large combat knife attached to the belt, another large throwing knife in a sheath on her right leg, as well as a small knife hidden in her boot.

Bill stared at the cache of weapons he had collected and sighed. If this woman had really wanted to kill Francis, he thought, she could have easily done so, a dozen different ways, before he and the rest of the group could have gotten there to help. It seemed clear to Bill that she was probably only trying to incapacitate him long enough to get away and had actually taken care not to permanently injure him. Bill made a mental note to himself to ask Francis to tell him exactly what happened and how they ended up fighting.

Upon searching the stranger's pack, Francis couldn't contain his whoops of glee, in spite of the circumstances. Inside the heavy pack was his dream weapon, an AA12 assault shotgun complete with two full drum magazines! He never thought he would ever get to see one, never mind handle it. "Come to Papa!", he said with a huge grin, grabbing the rare weapon.

"Whoa, wait a minute, who says you get to have that?" protested Louis. He could see the appeal of the rapid fire shotgun also.

"Well, seein' as my shotgun and pistol are at the bottom of the gully, I think I should get my choice of weapons to replace them. Plus, finders-keepers!" rumbled Francis, with an irritated glance at Louis. Francis also scooped up the holster with the Beretta and knife, jamming it on his belt with a smile. He took out the brass-knuckled knife and tried it on, finding it was a bit of a tight fit for his large hand. Once it was in his hand, though, he was confident it was going to stay there. He checked the edge, it was razor sharp, he noted appreciatively. He checked the ammo in the small gun, smiling when he saw that they were hollow points. The little gun would have some stopping power, at least.

"Louis, let him have it for now. He'll be the one having to lug that and the drums around, he'll get sick of that soon enough," said Bill. He could only wonder where the hell she managed to pick one of those up. Well, they could certainly put it to good use.

Louis grumbled a bit, but there was no real point in arguing. As long as somebody on the team could use it, he guessed it didn't make much difference who it was.

The pack also yielded a nice short-barreled tactical auto-shotgun, which Francis reluctantly yielded to Louis. In addition, it contained quite a bit of ammo for both shotguns, some ammo for the Desert Eagle and Beretta, a quiver of arrows for the bow strapped to the pack, some spare clothing and toiletries, a whetstone for knife sharpening, bottled water and health bars, some cans of tuna, beef stew and hash, a combination camping tent-hammock, a small blanket, an iPad along with a crank/solar power source, a map of the Northeast region, some items to make a fire, a small camping pot, some fishing gear, a small tarp, a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels (Francis quickly snatched that up, declaring that he was beginning to really like her style) and a leather HD insulated and fully armored motorcycle jacket strapped to the outside of the pack.

Francis eyed the jacket sadly, he would love to wear that, it was getting damn chilly out and he was in a sleeveless vest, but the size was way too small. The only one who could wear it was Zoey. It was a bit big on her but she gratefully put it on, her thin track jacket wasn't cutting it in the crisp fall weather.

It was Louis who came up with the idea of using the tent hammock to transport the unconscious woman. By placing her inside and tying the ends on to the heavy walking staff, two people could carry her and they could switch off whenever somebody got tired. Francis reluctantly offered to carry the woman's pack, until he remembered there was a bottle of Jack in there, which made the burden a little bit easier to bear. With that all settled, they set off down the trail, hoping to find some kind of secure shelter.


	4. Catch a Tiger

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for your kind comments and reviews, they are very much appreciated. This chapter is mostly to fill in the back story of the group's newest member. If you are enjoying the story, please consider giving it a short review, feedback is always appreciated.

For once, they got lucky. They found a sheltered building built into the side of a hill, complete with a spacious safe-room only a few miles away. They had encountered only a handful of zombies, nothing special, which were quickly and quietly dispatched by Francis using his new toy, the katana.

"This sucker slices through vampires like butter," he said, nodding appreciatively at the weapon.

"They're ZOMBIES, Francis!" the others practically chanted.

Francis stifled a smirk, these people were so easy to screw with. Sure, it was the apocalypse and all, but that didn't mean he couldn't amuse himself a little.

The large safe-room they found even had a lockable "cooler" room, where they could install their new companion. It was probably made in the event that potentially infected survivors with bites or scratches were allowed into the safe-room area. It was perfect for their purposes, lockable from the outside, they wouldn't have to worry about her getting out and either trying to run away or kill them in their sleep, depending upon how she felt about their past treatment. For the moment, it was unlikely their guest would do either of these things, she hadn't stirred or made a sound the entire trip.

Bill had Zoey strip off her bloodied outer clothing once Francis put her on the cot in the little room, and they covered her with a blanket and left, locking the door. They were all completely exhausted, but Bill still insisted on setting a watch, making sure that whoever was on watch should be sure to regularly check on their unwanted guest.

The next morning they took stock of what was left of supplies. It looked as if the safe-room had been well used by prior occupants, and not much had been left behind. There were a few cans of food, a ½ full case of MREs, some dehydrated veggies and packs of noodles, some bottled water, a small amount of ammo. There were some med-kits and a variety of medical supplies, including saline IV bags and some vials of injectable meds.

The water was still working in the taps and bathroom, probably gravity fed, because the power in the rooms was out. Bill figured they could stay there for a little while, if need be. The big problem was, the longer they waited, the less chance they would have to be rescued or find a still functioning evac zone. He kept those worries to himself, no point in making the others frantic. They would just have to see what developed over the course of the next couple of days.

He went in to check on the injured woman. It didn't look as if she had moved much at all. She had a decent pulse, but there was a fair amount of blood from the nosebleed dried to the bedding, and when he lifted the lids to check her eyes, both pupils were a bit dilated. That was not a good sign, he thought. She also sported a large ugly bruise on her ribs from the kick Francis had given her.

Bill got some water and a small cloth and tried to clean her up a bit, then he got some clean and cold water to soak the cloth in and apply to her swollen and bruised head to try to bring the swelling down. He didn't know why, but for some reason he always ended up playing nursemaid to the injured these days. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd had to heal up the others and himself, they each had a collection of bruises, scratches and bites from their encounters with the infected.

The spot where Francis' fist had landed was swollen and discolored, he could see it easily through the woman's shaved light brown- nearly blonde hair. He noticed there was a large scar running along in the same area of the swelling, obviously quite old but clearly a serious injury requiring a long line of stitches.

With her wide shoulders and slim hips, it's no wonder we all assumed she was a man, Bill thought. Of course, their assumption was also partly based on the ease with which she'd dispatched Francis. Even so, she could pass for a young man easily with her boyish build, particularly with the bulky clothing she was wearing. She had shaven hair on the sides and back, with longer hair in a brushy mane on top. She had a striking face, distinguished looking with a strong jaw, which gave her a tough and determined look even at rest.

He couldn't really tell her age, he had a tough time telling with these younger folks, but he would guess somewhere between mid 30s to early 40s, roughly. Sighing, he finished up and tucked the blanket back around her. It's too bad things turned out this way, she might have been a perfect addition to his little troop, but now that was all spoiled. Damn that overgrown dumbass, he thought in irritation, as he left and locked the door behind him.

The others had scraped together some food for breakfast, it wasn't much, but it seemed like a feast in comparison to what little they had been living on while trekking through the woods. Nobody talked very much, each lost in thought. They had already agreed to spend that day, and the next if need be, to rest up and see what happened. They were all unhappy with the delay, but there didn't seem to be much choice.

After breakfast, they each went off to their own tasks. Zoey had decided to bathe then wash her clothes, and had graciously agreed to wash the injured woman's blood stained clothing, as well as anything else her companions wanted washed.

Louis was fascinated by the iPad they had found last night and was tinkering with the little crank/solar generator to see if he could get the iPad back up and running. If so, he was hoping there might be some movies on it they could watch or some books to read, there wasn't much entertainment to be had during the apocalypse and he was giddy as a child at the thought of watching a movie, any movie.

Francis, who had been unusually quiet the whole morning, had decided to clean weapons, he was busy taking apart their various pistols and shotguns for cleaning, a task that Louis and Zoey gladly deferred to him, but Bill preferred to care for his M16 himself. While Bill and Francis cleaned weapons, Bill was able to find out more about the details of the confrontation between Francis and the woman at the bridge and what led to their fight. The whole thing appeared to be a miserable misunderstanding, and Bill cursed himself for sending Francis back to the bridge alone. He really should have gone himself and this whole situation could probably have been avoided. Well, next time he would be more careful not to send a boy to do a man's job. Francis was a fully grown man, not a boy, but with the impulsivity of a child sometimes, Bill glumly thought to himself.

They ate some of the MREs for lunch, with only a few complaints. Not bad for army chow, he'd had worse, thought Bill. He checked on the woman after lunch, the bedding was a bit tossed around, so he hoped maybe she would wake up soon.

After lunch, most of the little crew decided to spend the time napping, while Louis continued to tinker with the iPad. He had managed to charge it, now he was just trying to get past the password protection. "Don't worry," he grinned at his companions "I'm pretty sure I can get it to reset and we'll be watching a movie before you know it!"

"Great," grumbled Francis as he got up and stretched, "Probably all that's on there are some sappy romances and chick flicks. Yuck, I'd rather be sleepin'. Don't bother wakin' me for that shit."

Louis didn't bother to reply. He didn't care what kind of movie it was at this point, as long as it was something entertaining to watch that made him forget their situation for a while. For just a few hours, he could pretend that things were back to normal and life could go on as usual.

They managed to get a few hours sleep, before they were awakened by Louis, excitedly exclaiming, "I can't believe it!" repeatedly.

Bill, a bit annoyed at being woken up from a deep sleep asked, "Louis, what the hell are you going on about?"

"Bill, come check this out, you're not going to believe it!" Louis said. Louis held the iPad out to Bill, who looked at it and said, "OK, what the hell am I looking at?"

"Bill, it's a CV, and I think it might be for the lady we found last night!" Louis replied.

"OK, you've already lost me. What the hell's a CV?" Bill said.

"It's sort of like a resume for people in academics, but what it boils down to is that, if this is her, she's a scientist! She might know more about this flu virus and maybe could help us understand just what the hell is going on, maybe even have some ideas about a cure!" replied Louis.

Bill stared at the iPad, looking over the list of degrees and academic appointments, then at the long list of publications following. He couldn't make much out of it, but if this woman knew anything helpful about the virus causing this epidemic, that would be the first lucky break they had had in weeks. That is, if she ever woke up and talked to them, he reminded himself glumly.

"I also found some video on here that explains a whole lot, check these out", added Louis. He flicked his fingers across the iPad, bringing up some stored video. By this time, Zoey and Francis had joined them, and they all watched some of the short videos.

They worked their way through the cryptically labeled videos. There were a few of the woman riding a motorcycle (a Buell, according to Francis, who nodded appreciatively at the choice), whipping through sharply curved roads, doing some track day races. Some were of her riding horses over giant fences, grinning at the camera. The most interesting to Bill were quick clips of the woman taking martial arts tests or participating in martial arts seminars and tournaments. Bill recognized Taekwondo, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Karate, but wasn't sure of the one where all of the black belts wore black skirt-type outfits. One thing was very clear, however. The woman had a black belt in at least two of the martial arts, and judging from what they saw in the tournament videos, was an experienced, determined and tough fighter.

In one of the videos with the black-skirt practitioners, they watched the woman, as part of a group of six attackers against a more senior black belt, get thrown through the air into a gym wall, splat hard into it and slide down in a heap. Within seconds she was up, and with a fierce expression on her face, was back on the attack. She ended up being the lone surviving attacker, against a much larger and stronger opponent, once the attack was called to a halt, all the others lay crumpled and incapacitated on the mats.

They watched another seminar video in the same martial art, where the woman seemed to be having some sort of problem with the much older male black belt instructor. They watched as the woman, chosen to demonstrate as the attacker, was slammed to the ground and pinned by the man, she quickly tapped to end the demonstration. The man said something in a foreign language to her, and she responded, briefly bowing her forehead to the ground.

"I wonder what the hell they're saying." Bill observed as the woman jumped up and awaited the order to attack.

"He just told her he doesn't like her automatic tapping out, that he'll make her tap to real pain. She very politely told him that she won't be forced to tap like that." Louis answered as he stared at the video. The underlying tension between the two was apparent.

"You understand Japanese?" Bill asked in surprise.

"Yeah. I spent a year there, doing an internship after college." Louis remarked as he continued to watch.

The woman initiated the attack and was slammed again to the ground and rolled into a shoulder lock, her arm twisted high behind her back. The instructor cranked on the shoulder, turning the arm at an impossible angle. The woman's jaw was clenched tight, as she maneuvered to try to decrease the pressure. The man jammed a knee on her back, trying to prevent further movement away, as he cranked harder on the arm. He spoke to the woman, who growled out a reply. Each time he cranked the arm a little harder, repeating the same phrase, as the woman refused to tap, her free hand clenched tightly into a fist.

_The man recording the video swore: "Goddammit, TAP! She's gonna make him break it, just watch, stubborn jackass!"_

The pain looked intolerable, the woman began to tremble as she inched her knees under her, clearly with the intent to simply get up from the pin. The instructor growled and slammed an elbow into her back to try to flatten her back out. Suddenly, she somehow managed to twist her body and sweep the man to his back, quickly swinging into an arm bar hold. He yelled something to her, tapping out repeatedly as she extended the hold, she finally stopped and jumped back. She knelt down and bowed her head to the floor, then straightened up. It looked like her pinned arm had been damaged, she didn't seem to be able to lift it at all. The instructor leapt quickly to his feet, darted up to her angrily and backhanded her hard across the face. She glared at the ground and bowed quickly, said something, then sat straight up again, her lip dripping blood and her jaw clenched tightly. The instructor went into a tirade, yelling at her as she stared at the floor impassively, blood droplets spattering down on the mat and her uniform.

Louis shook his head. "She apologized to him, he's yelling at her for using mixed martial arts. Apparently what she did is not allowed. He's really pissed off by her pinning him like that. He's also yelling at her for losing control."

The instructor continued to angrily scold her, finally gesturing to her, angrily sending her away. She bowed once more and returned to the ranks of the other students, kneeling down, quietly holding the damaged arm and wiping the blood off, her face expressionless.

_With a long sigh and a string of curses, the man recording the video stopped it._

Bill was very disturbed by what he had just watched, wondering what they had gotten themselves into. She reminded him of men he'd known in special forces training. Those were people that you fucked with at your peril. They had a high pain tolerance and a ruthless determination, they would come at you and keep coming at you until they were unconscious or dead. He frowned as he thought about the potential danger to his little crew, thinking to himself "Shit, could this get any worse? Christ, what's next, we piss off the mob?"

Well, at least it explained how Francis had been so easily overcome. He was an immensely strong and tough brawler, but no match for a really seasoned martial artist, where his size and strength could be neutralized, even used against him. Francis might be the biggest and baddest dude at the barbecue, but he wasn't going to be winning any martial arts tournaments, thought Bill.

Zoey, apparently thinking along the same lines, said, "Awesome. So we've managed to piss off and alienate a semi-crazy, martial arts expert-scientist. What the hell do we do for an encore now?"

They couldn't help but glance at Francis, who frowned, but made no reply.

While the others started flipping through the various movies stored on the iPad (Francis was pleased to see they were mainly action/adventure), Bill contemplated the videos they had just watched. It was clear to him that the injured woman could present a serious problem for his team, if she decided to take exception to being attacked by Francis. After further thought, Bill went over to the medical supplies and selected an IV-saline and some drugs. He needed some time to digest all this and think about what to do next, it would be better to keep the woman sedated until he could come up with some kind of plan.

"What's up, Bill?" asked Zoey, observing Bill taking the supplies over toward the small cooler room.

"Well, I think it would be best for all concerned if I run an IV and give her some sedatives and pain meds, keep her calm for now. I'm concerned that we have a bit of a tiger by the tail here. I don't trust her to include her in our group, and if she is angry with us, or even just Francis, I'm worried about what she might do. I need some time to think about this and the best way to approach the situation." Bill replied.

Zoey frowned, looking at him, "Well, that just sucks. Bad enough we beat her unconscious, now we're going to drug her so she doesn't wake up? I don't like where this is going, Bill. Why don't we just take a wait and see approach and just see how she acts once she wakes up? We should be able to reason with her, maybe even get her to help us. It's clear she's got some useful skills. Hell, she was somehow able to get through all the zombies in the woods, all by herself. That's a skill set we could sure as hell use."

"I totally agree that she would be an asset to our group, I'm just not sure, given her introduction, that she would be willing to join us. If she decides to hold a grudge against us, she could be a big problem." Bill insisted. "Let's just run the IV for the day and see what happens tomorrow. She needs it anyways, she'll get dehydrated just laying there without being able to drink fluids."

"All right", agreed Zoey slowly, "But only for the one day, and then we give her a chance to wake up, OK?"

"Yeah, ok, fine." Bill agreed with a grumble. With that, he went off and started the IV. Thanks to his stint in the army, Bill knew his share of first aid and then some, running an IV was no problem for him. Actually, it was a little more difficult this time, he was used to dealing with larger veins in men and he had a tough time finding any on his new patient. He had to try several times, and the woman started to stir and groan, perilously close to waking up. He finally managed to get it, though, and quickly added the sedative and pain meds to the IV. Bill gazed sadly down at the woman. He felt terrible about what had happened to her with Francis, and now he felt even worse. "Christ," he thought to himself "When is this shit going to go a bit smoother?" Shaking his head, he left, locking the door behind him.


	5. Insufficient Memory

The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, with Zoey, Louis and Francis happily clustered around the iPad, watching Bruce Willis in the "Die Hard" series, passing around the whiskey they had liberated from the woman's pack. The atmosphere in the safe-room had improved quite a bit. They joked and argued about the stunts, made comments about the svelte actresses, it was as if the apocalypse had never happened, at least for a few hours.

Bill glanced up at their laughter, and gave a small smile. He knew how important the morale of his team was and he was pleased to see them enjoying themselves for once. The grim looks had faded from their faces, and they all looked much younger to him right now. He was grateful that they were able to divert themselves from the current problems facing them. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't stop thinking about them. What to do with the potentially very angry woman who might want to kill Francis or at the very least maim him a little? Which way should they go? When should they leave? Were they too late already, had the evac zone shut down? All of these questions and more raced through his mind and disturbed his ability to relax or sleep.

After another meal cobbled together from the odd assortment of supplies they had left, including canned artichokes and lima beans to Francis' disgust, they all headed off to bed. Louis took the first watch, one ear plugged into the iPad earplug to listen to music. It wasn't really his style of music, actually the only one who seemed to appreciate the hard rock making up most of it was Francis, but it was something to listen to. Maybe he would even grow to like it.

There was one playlist entitled "Music for the Buell" which had caught Francis' attention, he expected some flowery classical music crap, but instead was treated to some hard rock and metal. It seemed clear the listener wasn't gliding along quietly through the countryside at the posted speed limits. Francis could only shake his head, thinking he better check his assumptions at the door, nothing was as it appeared with that damned woman. Hell, she even disguised that she _was _a woman! Unlike Bill, Francis wasn't unduly concerned about what would happen if she woke up and had it in for him. Lots of people felt that way about him, and as far as he was concerned, she could just join the club and take a number.

The night shifts on watch passed quietly, until Bill's turn in the early morning hours. He sat, quietly smoking one of his last cigarettes, as he tried to scrape a thick layer of stinking, dried muck off his boots. The laces were so caked and stiff he could barely pry them apart. He may have to try soaking them a bit, if he were ever going to get that off, he thought. Suddenly, he heard some sounds coming from the cooler room. He couldn't identify it at first, but as he got closer, it sounded all too familiar. Well, that's not good, he thought as he walked over to look through the barred window in the door.

The woman, who Bill had decided he was going to call "Jo" based on what he had read on the iPad, had collapsed on the floor and was vomiting and dry heaving. She had torn the IV out, stumbled across the floor headed toward the little camping toilet in the corner, but didn't make it. Bill quickly grabbed some water and paper towels to clean up. He entered the room and helped haul the semi-conscious woman up and over to her bed.

She lay quietly as he helped her back under the blanket. She finally opened her eyes, squinting at him, trying to bring his face into focus as he wiped her face.

She had the mother of all headaches, it felt like her brain was melting in a pool of lava. Where the hell am I? And who's the guy in the army getup? Nothing around her looked at all familiar, and she didn't recognize the kindly older gentleman who seemed to be trying to help. "Who are you?" she asked him, her voice coming out in a harsh croak.

"I'm Bill, don't worry you're among friends here. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Been better, LOTS better. Do I know you?" she responded slowly, squinting quizzically at him.

Bill paused, then replied, "No, not really, we just met." It dawned on him that he may have been worried all for nothing, he had just assumed she would remember everything that happened the other day, but it was entirely possible she wouldn't remember a thing and they could just move on without mentioning all of the unpleasant details. She may have been hit hard enough that she wouldn't remember a thing about the whole incident, ever. Maybe their luck was getting better after all, Bill thought.

"Shit, this hurts!" she said, grimacing in pain. "What happened, anyway?"

Bill, thinking quickly, said "I'm not sure, we found you unconscious and brought you with us. You've had quite a nasty bang on the head. You need to take it easy and rest. Can I get you some water, and maybe something for the pain?"

"Yeah, I could sure use something, I feel like part of my head has been turned to goo. If you have anything stronger than water, that would be even better…" she suggested.

"Hmm, I'll see what I can do," said Bill, hoping that there was still a bit of the Jack Daniels left and that Francis and crew hadn't sucked it all down. Luckily, there was a little bit left, not enough to cause a problem with the pain meds he would give her.

"This is all I could find," Bill said, bringing a water bottle, the pain meds and the small shot of whiskey in a plastic cup. Bill gave her the pills and helped her drink some water to swallow them down, then handed her the plastic cup. She swallowed the whiskey down quickly in one gulp, then gazed sadly into the empty cup.

"Sorry", said Bill, "I'm afraid that's all there was left."

She lay back on the bed and said, "That's ok, it's better than nothing. Could you tell me where we are and, goddamn it, why it's so freakin' cold and damp? Haven't you guys heard of central heating?"

Bill paused, staring at her. "Ummm, well the electricity is out, so there isn't any heat. As for where we are, I'm not really sure. We're trying to head to the army evac zone through this park."

She looked at him as if he had gone crazy, "What park? What evac zone? What are we supposed to be evacuating from?"

Bill was stunned, he really hadn't expected this. He knew about memory loss from head injuries, of course, but it seemed as if she didn't remember anything at all about the virus or zombie apocalypse, which had all occurred over the last few weeks. What if she doesn't remember anything at all about anything, Bill worried. "Well, how about you tell me what the last thing is that you remember and I will try to fill in the gaps from there?" he suggested.

"Uh, ok," she said frowning as she struggled to remember. There was a meeting she was attending in Washington, DC. It was about something really important, but she couldn't remember exactly what now. She remembered fragments of driving down to DC, getting to the hotel, but absolutely nothing after that at all. She relayed what she remembered to Bill. Looking at his expression when she finished, she realized he was shocked, but about what? Her head was killing her, even trying to remember led to waves of pain and nausea. She had to close her eyes, because the light began to send shooting stabs of pain through her head. Light seemed to swirl all around, even with her eyes closed, until there was nothing but blackness.

"All right, I'll do my best to explain the current events as best I can," Bill started to say. He looked down at her, but could see she had faded into unconsciousness again. It could wait. He wasn't sure how to explain to her that everyone she knew just a few weeks ago was probably either dead or, actually, undead at this point, and he was very sure he really didn't want to. I should make Francis do it, he thought bitterly. Nobody should have to go through the pain of such a massive loss more than once, and I sure as hell don't want to be the one to break the news to her. Bill tucked the blanket around her, and went and got a spare one to layer on top, before cleaning up and locking the room.


	6. To Hell and Gone

At another hastily assembled breakfast consisting of some canned hash and noodles, Bill explained to the others what had just happened.

"Wow," said Zoey "that's a lucky break for us that she doesn't remember anything about her encounter with Francis."

"Maybe," Bill replied. "But who knows if her memories will come back or not? I'm still not sure we can trust her at this point. Plus, we have no idea whether or not she is immune from the virus. I'm thinking she must be, since surely she's encountered them and been scratched or bit by now, but we don't really know. I don't see any obvious bite or scratch marks."

After breakfast, they all kept busy with small tasks. Francis started loading up ammo clips, Zoey worked on dividing the remaining supplies up for transporting in the packs, while Louis continued to fiddle with the iPad, trying to examine some encrypted files he'd found.

Bill continued to work on his boots, trying to soften the encrusted, dried leather. He checked several times, but their guest seemed to be quietly asleep. They all ate lunch, as Louis excitedly announced he had broken the encryption on one of the video files and it should be viewable now.

As they finished eating, Louis propped up the iPad so everyone could watch and started the video, entitled "Gap_Buellah 2". At first they weren't sure what they were looking at, a blur of road coupled with a deep, rumbling roar, until Francis told them it was a motorcycle-mounted camera. So it was just another motorcycle video, apparently. Zoey wondered aloud why something like that would be encrypted, as they idly continued to watch as they ate:

_The motorcycle entered a parking lot with a throaty roar, as the rider kicked the stand out and got off._

_"Hey, man, that was sweet!", a man dressed in motorcycle gear approached the bike._

_"Yo, 'sup?" the woman replied in a low alto, clearly going along with the man's misidentification of her. She flipped her face shield up as she spoke._

_"Can you go again? I want to record the sound, I got everything set up", he replied._

_"Nah, it's getting kind of late in the day and I'm beat", she replied back._

_"Please man? I'll give you $50 to rip it down", the man begged. Apparently she refused and the man said, "$100? Come on, you've got to go down anyway, right?"_

_After a brief silence, she replied "Fine. Money upfront, right now. You record the sound, I'll try to get it on video. Give me your e-mail and I'll send it to you."_

_"Sweet! You're going full on, right?" he asked, as he scribbled something down and handed it to her with the cash._

_"Always do, man", she answered with a low laugh, as she stuffed the money in her jacket and turned over the motorcycle with a thundering rumble, then rolled the throttle into a scream. She pulled out of the parking lot with a deafening shriek. The motorcycle careened down through a series of twists and turns, some of them hairpins. The engine screamed and roared, howling as she shifted it through the gears, relentlessly rolling on the throttle, pushing it as hard as it could go, leaning the bike nearly over on its side, knee scraping the ground. The camera view was wild, it looked like the bike was actually full over on its side for much of the run, flipping fluidly from side to side as she navigated the sharp turns. _

Francis shook his head in disbelief, he'd seen some wild riding in his time, but this was goddamned suicidal.

_After over 7 minutes of this, she came to a sharp curve in the road, leaning the bike hard over as she flew through the turn, only to find a car coming up the road had failed to make its curve and was now in her lane. She instantly tried to right the bike and avoid it, but there was too much momentum, the road spun in front of the camera, as the bike seemed to spin on its front wheel. She managed to miss the car, but the front tire caught the road on an edge and the bike tumbled wildly through the air, as she was thrown from it and launched over the guardrail. The bike slid along the road before coming to a jarring rest up against the guardrail, camera still recording. _

_After a couple of minutes, she emerged back into view, limping, her right arm dangling at an odd angle. She went over to the bike, cursing as she struggled to take the helmet off with her left hand. She flung it down on the ground in disgust. She fumbled in her jacket and got out her phone to make a call._

_"Yeah, CC? Doc. Just wiped out in the Gap…Down in lower Gap…Yeah, yeah, yeah, tell me about it. Look, can you come get me and the bike before the fuckin' cops get wind of this?...No, asshole cagers who caused it split…Right, leave now...No, I'm busted up but not too bad, you can drop me at the ER, OK?...No, don't call him…No, seriously man, he'll find out soon enough, I just don't want to hear it right now, OK?...All right, make it 10 minutes, I want to be out of here yesterday, you know how it is with me and cops…OK, see ya."_

_She threw herself down on the guardrail to wait, clutching her arm. After several minutes, the flashing of blue lights could be seen on the screen._

_"Goddamnit, fuck me", she cursed vehemently as she got to her feet. Some jerk must have seen the wreck and called it in on a cell phone, maybe the same jackass who caused it._

_"Get your hands in the air!" a man's voice shouted._

_"OK, OK, I've only got one working arm!" she shouted back._

_"Get down on the ground, face down. Now!" another voice shouted._

_"All right, all right! It's a friggin' motorcycle accident, not a terrorist attack, for Chrissakes! Relax!" she yelled back. Damn these local yokel cops, getting all excited about a little wreck. Glancing back at the camera, she lay on the ground in full view of it._

_Two cops came into view, one of them quickly kneeling on her back and grabbing at her hands to pull them behind her back._

_"Take it easy!" she protested, "I broke my damn shoulder, can't move it at all." _

_"Good!" said the cop kneeling on her as he jerked the injured arm behind her back. She gasped and squirmed at the pain. "Maybe you punks will quit screwing around up here. I fuckin' hate you bikers, and I'm sick of cleaning up your messes!" He started to pat her down roughly._

_"Hey, hands off!" she protested with a snarl. "I request a female officer for any body searches!"_

_The cop gave a sneering laugh, slapping the back of her head sharply. "I'll just bet you do. Shut the hell up!" He continued his search, suddenly shouting in alarm to his partner, "GUN!" as he found a gun in a holster at the small of her back. He roughly continued his search, turning up 3 knives. He grabbed her and threw her over on her back, she gasped in pain, glaring at the man._

_"What's all the hardware for, asshole?" he snarled at her as he searched then unzipped her jacket, jerking it roughly downward off her shoulders. Blood soaked her white t-shirt around the right shoulder. She gave another grunt of pain at the harsh treatment._

_"It's in case I run into dickheads like you!" she growled at him. He picked her up by the shirt and slammed her hard back against the ground, eliciting a curse and gasp of pain, then returned to his search. _

_"Whoa, check it out, Chris!" the man said to his partner, as he ripped her shirt upwards, "Nice tits, guess you aren't a dude after all." He leered at her, as he laid his hands on her breasts in his "search". "Considering all the concealed weapons, I think this might call for a cavity search", he suggested with a lewd smirk as he ripped her bra upwards, exposing her and grabbed at the top of her pants._

_She arched up and kicked him hard in the groin, he staggered back out of the camera's view. Moaning and retching for some time, until his partner apparently helped him up. He walked back to her, his hand outstretched as he aiming a weapon at her. A popping noise erupted from the weapon and she began to convulse, as he activated the taser. He stopped it for a short period, then reactivated it, causing her to resume convulsing. He walked over and yanked the taser probes out, then straddled her quickly, punching her several times in the wounded shoulder. Her eyes rolled back as she groaned in agony and weakly tried to struggle out from under him. He finally punched her in the jaw and she went limp._

_The man growled as he pushed himself backward to straddle her legs and began to roughly unbuckle her belt._

_"No, man, NO!" his partner yelled out, trying to drag him off of the woman. _

_ The man shoved him away, snarling, "Take a walk, junior, watch out for any cars coming up the road!"_

_"I don't want anything to do with this shit! Get off her!" the other man screamed._

_"Just shut the fuck up and watch for cars", the man growled at him._

_"I can't watch this shit, you're fucked up, man!" his partner said in disgust and stomped off._

_"Hey, sweetheart. You don't want to miss this! Wake up!" the man slapped her hard, trying to waken her. Her head snapped to the side from the blow, but she didn't stir. After repeated slaps failed to bring her to consciousness, he apparently decided to proceed with his attack anyway, unsnapping and unzipping her leather pants. He began to tug them off, struggling with the leathers._

_Before he managed to finish this, however, his partner gave a warning cry, "Staty's coming!" Cursing, he hurriedly jumped up and straightened his uniform._

_More lights flashed on the screen as the sound of a cruiser crunching on gravel could be heard._

_"What in the hell is going on here?" a deep voice growled. "Did I just see what I think I saw? Why is this woman half-naked and handcuffed?"_

_"She was resisting arrest. She kicked me, I guess her clothing got messed up in the struggle, sir", the man responded._

_A tall, beefy state trooper stepped into view, dressed in a combination of dark green and khaki uniform with yellow accents. He walked over and looked at the unconscious woman, then stared in disbelief at the demolished bike._

_"Shit! Doc? Doc, can you hear me? It's Ray, you're going to be okay, all right?" he said, reaching over, he pulled her shirt back down, as he checked her pulse. He looked at the injured shoulder, probing gently with his fingers, then turned her face, examining her bruises. He straightened up, glaring at the other men, "Why in the FUCK would you handcuff a seriously injured woman?! Arrest her for what? Having an accident? Never mind, I don't have time for your bullshit, give me the cuff keys. You two asshats get down the road and direct traffic. You've done enough over here. I'll call for a tow, and get her to the hospital. You wait for the tow driver, you can leave when the scene is clear. Got that?"_

_"Yes, sir", they responded as they scurried away._

_The trooper uncuffed her, flinging the cuffs to the ground, and searched through her pockets, finding her phone. He pressed some buttons. "CC?...Yeah, it's Ray…Yeah, I know, I'm there now…OK, I'll let them know you're picking it up…No, completely totaled, Buellah's done…Can you get hold of Ton?...Yeah, tell him to meet me at the ER, I'm gonna drive her down myself, it'll be quicker…No, not doing so great, out cold, looks like she caught another beating…Yeah, resisting something, I've got a good idea what…OK, I'll catch you up later, man."_

_He bent down and scooped the woman up, carrying her swiftly to the cruiser. The siren began wailing as the cruiser sped off, flinging gravel. Several minutes passed before a tow truck arrived and backed up to the ruined motorcycle. A thin, sandy-haired man, dressed in mechanic's coveralls walked over to the bike, sadly inspecting it. He reached out to stroke it then reached over and turned off the camera._

There was a long silence after the video ended. Bill was upset at what he had just seen and how it related to their own violent encounter with the woman. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence, "No wonder she looked like she was about to leap out of her own skin when I said we were going to tie her it makes sense now. Sonofabitch!" He swore, slamming a fist on the table, causing all of the dishes to rattle.

Zoey just shook her head sadly, saying, "I guess that's why it was encrypted. Probably something she didn't want anybody to accidentally see…"

Louis nodded, he wished he had watched it first before showing it to the others, it felt like a real violation of privacy now. "I'm gonna delete the unencrypted video, I don't feel right about this."

Francis, meanwhile, was completely livid. He'd caught his share of shit from the cops and then some, as a Hell's Legion biker. He'd caught some beatings from them too, but they'd never tried anything remotely like that with him, for chrissakes! No wonder she carried an arsenal of weapons, after shit like that went down. Francis didn't think it was even possible, but he was even more ashamed than ever to have punched her when she was tied up. He'd acted just like that prick, and he was disgusted with himself.

The others could see that he was simmering mad and went silent. They quietly cleaned up after the meal and went on about their day. Bill opted to take a nap, he hadn't been sleeping well and couldn't shake his exhaustion. Zoey took the iPad, playing some of the games. Francis paced around for a while, then lay down to try and sleep. Louis just hung around, taking the iPad back to read through a book on World War II weaponry.

After what seemed like a brief nap, but was in reality several hours, Bill was awakened by Francis shaking his shoulder urgently. "Wake up, old timer." Francis said, "Our friend there is awake and pretty pissed, think you should be the one to talk with her."

Bill groggily clambered to his feet, trying to shake the sleepiness off and headed toward the cooler room. He could now hear some very loud banging going on, as he hurried toward the door.

Looking through the small window, he could see that she was definitely awake and was back-kicking the door for all she was worth, even barefooted she kicked so hard it threatened to jump from its hinges. "Let me the hell out of here!" she yelled, while treating the door to another vicious kick. "Goddamnit, let me out!"

"Easy, Easy!" Bill said in a soothing voice. "You're among friends here, take it easy!"

"Bullshit!" she yelled, "You're no friend of mine, I don't know you. Why are you keeping me locked in here? Is this some sort of kidnapping thing? Because if it is, you're wasting your time, I don't have squat for ransom!"

"No, no, it's nothing like that." Bill sighed, "The door is just locked as a precaution, to keep you safe."

"Keep me safe from what? You better start making sense, old man, before I get really angry", she said tightly.

"The name's Bill. As I told you before, we found you unconscious on our way to find an evac zone. We're in the midst of a goddamn apocalypse, people everywhere contracted a flu virus that turns them into zombies, mindless killing machines that slaughter any uninfected person that they can. We need to get to a safe zone and be evacuated, otherwise we'll be wiped out." Bill replied, trying to explain.

The woman just stared at him in utter disbelief, then she slowly reached out a finger through the bars, touched him on the chest and gave a gentle push. She gripped the bars on the door, giving them a firm shake, then she pinched herself hard on the arm.

"Wow," she said, rubbing her arm, "I've never had a dream that was so real before. Actually, I haven't had a dream for years, so this is just incredibly bizarre. Is this some sort of gag, am I being punked? Did I get in another motorcycle accident? Maybe I'm in the hospital. Shit, maybe I'm dead and now I'm in hell, 'cause this sure ain't my idea of heaven. I thought hell was supposed to be warm, though. If I really am in hell, guess I can't argue that maybe I belong here, but I guess I expected more demons or something. So, Bill, was it? What's you're role in this dream or hell here supposed to be? Kindly father figure to show me the error of my ways, or something along those lines? You've really got your work cut out for you here." Giving a snort of laughter, she went and sat cross-legged on the bed, looking at him expectantly.

Bill hesitated. This wasn't really going quite as he expected. How could he convince her that this was for real? He agreed it all sounded so fantastical, like some bad B-grade movie or kids video game plot. Shit, he thought, I need a cigarette and some time to think. What he said was, "Well, for now my role is just to try to make you as comfortable as possible in this room. Can I get you anything to eat or a drink?"

She looked at him, seeming to study him closely. "You know", she said slowly, " In ancient mythology, if you entered the underworld and ate or drank anything there, you would have to stay and could never return to the land of the living. That being the case, I think I'll decline. Thanks anyway. One thing I would ask for is some clothes, I don't really want to spend the rest of eternity in my underwear, if it's all the same to you."

"All right, then. I'll see what I can do." Bill replied with a small smile. Strange to be chatting with somebody who thought they were dreaming or in hell. Wait until she saw what was really outside their little safe-room, he thought. Bill rummaged through the spare clothes in her pack and found a t-shirt and some shorts, checked them carefully to make sure there were no unpleasant surprises hidden in the pockets, and then gave them to her through the window.

"Thanks, Bill. This was feeling like one of those bad dreams where you're in your underwear or naked in front of the whole class." She said, as she slipped the clothing on. "What's brought you to this little corner of hell, anyway?"

Bill smiled sadly before answering, "Hard to say really, there are too many reasons why I would belong in hell."

"Hmmm," she looked at him appraisingly, "MACSOG, Bill? That's some HEAVY duty shit…Vietnam era, right?"

Bill stared at her in astonishment. Nobody ever seemed to notice the crest on his beret, let alone knew what it stood for. Her sharp observations were a bit unnerving to him.

"This?" He took the beret off, contemplating the crest. "Just something I picked up."

Her blue eyes seemed to pierce him to his core. She shrugged, "Sure, Bill. Whatever you say, man. Whoever does belong to that beret is a tough s.o.b., and a force to be reckoned with, though. He would be no stranger to hell."

Bill nodded, deep in thought. She was making him really uncomfortable with this line of questioning and he was anxious to disengage. "Look, why don't you get some rest, I'll be back in a little while, I've got some other charges to take care of."

Bill returned to the main room to see Zoey, Louis and Francis all awaiting his return.

"Well?" asked Zoey, as she nervously fidgeted with some ammo clips, shuffling them around.

"Well," sighed Bill "It's not going great, she thinks she is either dreaming all this up or is dead and stuck in hell. I think she may be half right. This is no dream, but it sure seems like some kind of living hell. I don't really know what I can say that will convince her about the reality of the current situation, other than to just take her with us and she can see for herself. At this point, I'm actually hoping she does just get her memory back, because I am at a complete loss as to how to explain this FUBAR mess."

"Hmmm," mused Louis, "Maybe if we all go talk to her, we can convince her? She's only really seen Bill so far, but when she sees all of us and that we're all saying the same thing, maybe that will work."

"Worth a try, I guess." Bill muttered. "No time like the present." With that, they all trooped back to the small room. Bill unlocked it and they entered. The woman was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling, but sat up when they came in.

"So are these the other inmates in hell, or what?" she asked. Getting up, she approached them, looking curiously at Zoey and Louis. "What did you two do to get stuck here? You don't look particularly damned", she said. Turning to Francis, she continued, "You, on the other hand, look right at home." Francis scowled down at her, as she circled him. "Shit, a Hell's Legion bro." she said, inspecting his ink, "No surprises here, it's practically in your club charter that you boys end up in the netherworld. I ran into some of your brothers on occasion top-side, took their money with the Buell every time." She gave a short chuckle. "Maybe that's why I'm here, guilty of bilking hog riders out of their tattoo and beer money. You'd think that's a crime that would land you in heck, though, not full-on hell." She stopped and looked intently up at Francis, furrowing her brow.

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere? You look really familiar, I'm pretty sure I've seen you before…I just can't put my finger on it" she said.

Francis shook his head, in spite of the chilliness in the room he could feel himself start to break into a sweat as she stared intently at his face.

"Ah! I remember now!" she said, snapping her fingers.

Ah shit, thought Francis, just my goddamned luck! He drew back slightly, he half expected her to haul off and belt him one right there. Not that he would stop her, he figured he had it coming and then some.

"Were you at Daytona bike week last spring?" she asked.

"Huh, wha' ?" replied Francis, stammering as he struggled to realign his jackknifed train of thought ,"Ummm, yeah, now that you mention it, I was there."

"You were at the bar fight in that little dive next to that Mexican restaurant! Big crew of frat guys came in and started hassling some bikers? You and some other guys started fighting with them? You probably don't remember me, but you might remember my friend, Ton. Big guy, 6'8 and like 300 lbs, he used one of the frat guys to clear the bar? Ton loves the classics…" she said.

"Hell, yeah. I remember that!" Francis replied with a grin, "He threw the guy the entire length of the bar, it was great! Then the cops came, were getting ready to use tasers on us, almost managed to bag me, but some little guy with a mask on threw one of the cops through the plate glass window and ran off and all of the other cops went chasing off after him. I could kiss that guy, saved me a long stretch in the pen!" Francis grinned, remembering the fun times, which seemed like an eternity ago.

She laughed, raising her hand up like a kid in class. "Guilty, man. The guy who threw the cop through the window, the one wearing the evil clown mask, that was me. I couldn't let them tase you guys. Trust me, tasing seriously sucks. Anyways, I hate cops and no donut-munching, lard ass cop is ever going to run me down. They never caught up to me, but I had to ditch my mask and my favorite jacket, never did get 'em back. Took me a few seconds to place you, I think maybe you only had the mustache back then. Wow, it really is a small world…or maybe I should say a small hell."

Francis nodded, it was true, he did just have a long mustache running down to his chin back then, as well as an even longer list of warrants out on him in several states. He couldn't help but think about what would have happened if he'd been in the pen when the virus hit. All of those men packed in together, even if you were immune, you would never have stood a damned chance in there. If it weren't for the woman standing in front of him, there was a good chance he would have been torn apart by infected in prison, along with who knows how many other men. What were the odds of running into her out here, in the middle of goddamn nowhere? Shit, this apocalypse was getting weirder by the day, he concluded.

"So… Jo, or is it Doc?" began Bill.

"Nobody except family calls me Jo anymore. Everyone just calls me Doc, it's sort of an inside joke because of my degree. You know, PhD…stands for Piled Higher and Deeper." she said with a wry grin.

Well, thought Bill, at least it looks like we don't have to deal with some snobby, pretentious scholar looking down her nose at all of us. "Um, OK, Doc it is, then. This is Francis, Zoey and Louis (nodding to each in turn). I just wanted you to meet the rest of the group and to see if we can explain what's going on and convince you this is no dream and we're not quite in hell yet."

"OK, I have no idea what you can do or say to convince me, but go for it." She replied. "What Bill here was telling me just sounds like some sort of bad sci-fi thing."

They spent the next hour trying to explain to Doc about the virus, zombies and how they were trying to get to an evac zone. While she listened intently to what they were saying, it was still clear they hadn't really made a believer out of her. Eventually, she stopped them.

"Look, I guess I'm here or some version of me is here, whether this is for real or not. You want to get to this evac zone, so I guess I might as well play my part in this and go along with you on your little quest. There's only a couple things you need to know about me; I play by my own rules. I come and go as I please, and do what I want, as long as it isn't bad for the group, OK?"

"Sorry, Doc, no can do." Bill said with a frown. "You're not in any kind of shape to be wandering around out there alone. Nobody can come and go as they please in this environment. We need to carefully plan what we do, because we will only survive if we stick together, and if one of us stirs up the shit, they drag the rest of us in it with them. Anybody makes a stupid decision, they make it for all of us (he couldn't help glancing at Francis, who managed to look mildly contrite at his comment). We're a team, and we need to work together, no loose cannons. Look, it's getting late, why don't you get some rest and we'll talk more in the morning? I'm sure we can work something out."

"Does this mean you're going to lock me in here again?" she frowned, blue eyes suddenly flashing with anger. Bill instinctively took a step back from her.

"Sorry, just for now. As I said, we don't need any loose cannons. We're not in any shape to try to rescue anybody from some foolishness. We've already busted our asses dragging you this far, we're not about to just let you wander out and get killed out there. The zombies don't care whether you believe in them or not, they'll still tear you to pieces." Bill replied, shaking his head.

"Well, I hate being cooped up! I'm going to go fuckin' stir crazy if you don't let me the hell out of here!" She crossed her arms, scowling at them.

"If we let you out of this room for a little while, will you promise not to go outside or take off?" asked Bill.

She sourly eyed Bill. Glancing away from him, he saw her clench her jaw, as she muttered, "No."

"OK, then." Bill replied, "I guess we're at an impasse. We'll see you tomorrow morning, we plan on heading out then, so you'll get your chance to get out soon enough. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

Refusing to face them and with jaw muscles clenched tight, she didn't bother to reply, but just threw herself down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Everyone else trooped out, and Bill locked the door with a sigh. As soon as he did that, she jumped up and started pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

They returned to the other room, each lost in thought. Francis couldn't stop thinking about his narrow escape from prison and what would have ended up being a death sentence. Bill, Zoey and Louis were caught up thinking about what tomorrow would bring, the safe-room break had been a nice reprieve and they had been able to briefly forget about what lay beyond the safe-room doors, but tomorrow they would all be shoved right back in it.

Following a meager dinner using the last of the food, they decided on the watch shifts. Bill reminded them to check in on Doc occasionally, just to make sure all was well. He had looked in on her and she was still pacing back and forth, punctuated with flips off of the wall and occasional twirling Taekwondo kicks. Bill watched as she ran up to the wall, took several steps up it and then flipped backwards down. Bill shook his head, she was literally bouncing off the walls.

Louis had the first shift, everything was pretty quiet outside, so he began to listen to music and read a book on the iPad. The electronic library was fairly extensive, from science fiction to anatomy and surgery manuals. As his shift was winding down, he remembered he should check in on Doc. Looking through the barred door, he switched on his flashlight, but to his surprise, the room looked empty. In a panic, he nearly unlocked the door and went inside to look around, but decided instead to get Bill.

They unlocked the door and entered, searching for Doc with no success. Puzzled, they began to examine the room carefully. They quickly discovered that their guest had somehow managed to jump up the wall and climb onto the pipes running across near the ceiling and pry open a vent cover. It was a small opening, but apparently had been big enough for her to squeeze through and escape. Bill called out for her a few times, in the hopes that perhaps she was stuck in the ductwork, but there was no answer.

"Dammit, sonofabitch!" swore Bill, slamming the door shut. Apparently the jumping up the walls he had observed earlier actually had a purpose, he just didn't understand it at the time. Well, nothing to be done about it now, he thought. Most likely she was either already dead or soon would be. There was no use blundering about in the zombie-filled woods searching for somebody who would probably actively hide from them, unless she was incapacitated. Goddamnit, what the hell was wrong with her? Couldn't she just wait a bit? Bill let out an exasperated sigh. He knew if the situation were reversed, he probably would have done the exact same thing. Being locked up didn't agree with him either, and he would have tried to escape, zombies or no zombies. Shit, he hated losing people. He took over the next shift from Louis, brooding about how he had mishandled the whole thing from start to finish. He couldn't help but blame himself for everything, from deciding to let Francis go back alone at the bridge, to letting a naïve Louis go on watch when he should have known that she was planning an escape. Bullshit!, he thought to himself, I need to pull myself together or she's not going to be the only one to die.

Zoey took over on the next shift, as Bill updated her and then went back to his bed in an attempt to sleep. In spite of his anxiety, he fell quickly and deeply asleep.

Francis took over from Zoey for the final early morning shift. Zoey had trouble waking him, as usual, and he was none too pleased to hear that Doc had escaped. "What the fuck?!", he whispered sharply. "Why didn't Bill get us up to look for her? She could still be alive!"

"I don't know, dude", Zoey quietly replied while tiredly rubbing her eyes. "I guess he figured it would be hard to find her out there if she didn't want to be found", she concluded. "Searching for someone out in those woods, in the dark, with zombies all over the place, isn't exactly the smartest thing to be doing", she added, as she headed for her bedding. "I guess he doesn't want to endanger any of us, just to search for somebody who ran away from the group."

Francis only growled in reply, as he looked out the safe-room door, straining his eyes against the darkness. His first urge was to charge out there and start looking, but even he had to admit how futile and foolish that would be. And, he wondered to himself, why the hell do I really care anyway? It's not like she was a friend of his, or anything. As he stood watch, silently looking on as darkness began to fade toward dawn, he began to realize that, for maybe the first time in his life, he had to rely on other people and that, like it or not, he was beginning to actually care about them. At first it was out of self-interest, but now he wasn't so sure. As annoying as Zoey, Louis and even Bill could be, he was finding that he actually cared about them, although he really hated to admit it, even to himself. As for Doc, it was more complicated. It was his fault that she ended up injured and got her memory seriously screwed up. Add in the fact that she probably inadvertently saved his life back in Daytona and in some twisted way he felt like he owed her something. On the other hand, he also despised her for handing him a humiliating defeat in front of everyone. Shit, he thought, this is getting too goddamned complicated. Francis hated complications.

He was bored and cold, leaning against the wall near the door in an attempt to stay awake, when he heard sounds outside. Gazing out into the chilly mist, he could just make out some figures a little distance out from the door, and could hear a dull, wet, smacking noise.

The beam of his flashlight could just barely pick out the figures, but then he distinctly heard Doc's voice shouting, "Why won't you fuckers just die already?! Goddamnit!"

In a flash, Francis grabbed his sword, unlocked the door and dove outside. He found Doc, covered in blood, being pounded and bitten at by five zombies, as she used a tire iron to smash at them, trying to keep them at bay. Several of the zombies sported partially crushed skulls and faces, while another one seemed to be missing an entire arm. This did not seem to bother them, as they tried to tear her into little pieces with their bare hands and bite her. "Look out!", he yelled as he knocked them back and swept the sword through three zombie necks. He kicked another one in the chest, knocking it back, as he used his left fist to punch the final zombie still standing. He quickly slashed the sword into the two zombies he knocked down, finishing them. He grabbed Doc by the arm, bodily dragging her to the saferoom, flinging her inside as he slammed the door closed behind them.

"Holy...shit!" she gasped, struggling to catch her breath as she crawled to her hands and knees, "You… weren't…kiddin'", she paused to take a long shuddering gasp, "it's…fuckin'…lively…out there." She dropped a set of pillowcases she had slung over her shoulder and the tire iron to the floor and sat in a kneeling position as she sucked in great gasps of air, her eyes closed.

Francis was angry, he felt like shaking her until her teeth rattled, but after seeing her in the light of the safe-room, his anger was quickly replaced by concern. She was covered in blood, and he could see several large and deep looking gouges on her neck and arms, some raw bite marks on her shoulder and arms, what looked like a broken nose, and all of one side looked scraped raw, with dirt and gravel embedded in the wounds. Her bare feet were scratched, bleeding and badly bruised all over. She began to sway a bit, and Francis worried she might pass out on him.

"Here," he said as he bent down to gather her up, "Grab onto my neck and I'll help you to your bed. We need to get those injuries cleaned up pronto."

"Um, yeah, I don't think you should try to lift me, I'm no flyweight here, just help me to my feet", she protested as he began to scoop her up.

Francis snorted, "It ain't the first time I've had to lift you up, and I doubt it'll be the last time, from what I've seen so far. Come on." He easily lifted her, carried her to the bed in the little room and laid her down gently. He couldn't help but notice she smelled like the inside of a distillery. He debated about whether he should get Bill, this sort of thing wasn't exactly in his comfort zone. He decided against it, though. The old man needed his sleep, he was totally beat. Besides, he knew his fair share about doctoring wounds, having had to work on his own and others often enough.

"Be right back," he said as he went to retrieve antiseptic, forceps, saline, sterile gauze, antibiotic ointment and some pain meds. By the time he returned, she was pale and shivering, so he gave her some pills, bundled her up as best he could while he worked his way around the various injuries. At least it didn't look like any stitches would be needed, he was glad to see. He did his best to straighten the broken nose, using duct tape across the bridge to stabilize it, packing it with gauze. Looked like hell, but should work fine. She began to drift in and out of consciousness, startling awake every so often when he did something particularly painful.

The worst was the big, raw scrape going down one side and a good chunk of her back, almost looked like a bad road rash from going down with a bike. He worked on that last. He was relieved to see that she had fallen unconscious again, because this was going to hurt. He began carefully picking out the gravel and debris, squirting some sterile saline to clean it out as he went, then wiping it with antiseptic and finally applying a layer of ointment. When he pushed up her shirt in back to clean the scrape, he was surprised to find a series of stunning tattoos running down her back, including a beautifully detailed oriental koi, a mountain scene, a flowering branch, all intertwined with asian script. On the small of her back was a large, black, realistic looking imperial scorpion tattoo. Interesting, he thought, wondering what the meaning behind all those tattoos might be. He finished up and layered another blanket on to keep her warm. As he left, he automatically began to close and lock the door behind him, but with a glance at the unconscious woman, he gave a wry smile and with a shake of his head, he left the door wide open.


	7. Tanks for the Memories

Francis returned to the main room to finish his shift, the others would be awake soon. He noticed on the floor the bag that Doc had dropped, which was actually two pillowcases tied together to make a sort of double sack. He untied the gore-encrusted bags to check inside and was pleasantly surprised to find some items obviously scavenged from somebody's vacation cabin. In her travels, Doc had picked up a couple boxes of shotgun shells, a partially filled carton of cigarettes, a large canned ham, some cans of ravioli, several boxes of mac and cheese dinners, pancake mix, some canned potatoes and canned vegetables, a plastic squeeze container of grape jelly, peanut butter, instant coffee and a large tin containing a carefully packed bottle of cognac. A plastic container also held some eggs nestled in paper towels, some of which had been broken. Sadly, one of the sacks also contained the shattered remains of a bottle of Glenfiddich scotch, a casualty of the encounter with the zombies. It also explained her boozy odor. Well, Francis thought, after a moment of silence for the lost scotch, at least the cognac made it.

Bill, Louis and Zoey awoke to the wonderful smell of ham cooking on the little camp stove. Using the scavenged items, Francis had spent the remainder of his shift preparing a mouth-watering breakfast; ham omelets, slabs of fried ham, pancakes and fried potato. The others thought they must be dreaming, they couldn't figure out which was more remarkable, the wonderful food or the fact that Francis had made it.

"Well, young man, you've certainly been busy this morning!" exclaimed Bill, as he looked at the feast. "But where did you get the food? And is that coffee?! Where the hell did that all come from?" he asked in amazement.

"The prodigal returned with it," Francis replied nodding his head toward Doc's room. "Here, old man. Merry Christmas", he continued with a grin, as he tossed the carton of cigarettes to Bill, who had been going without for some time.

"Wait, what? Now I know I must still be dreaming, did you just use the word "prodigal" properly in a sentence? " Bill asked, as he expertly fielded the carton. "She came back? Is she ok? Fill me in, please."

"Ha, Ha, bite me…Yeah, she'll live. She got the crap kicked out of her by some vampires, they really took some chunks out of her, but she should be fine after some rest. She's sleepin' now. I found her beatin' on 'em with a tire iron a few hours ago, just outside the safe-room. Brought her in here and patched her up, she should be good to go soon", replied Francis casually, as he served breakfast up to a practically drooling Zoey and Louis.

Bill looked at the big man, practically in shock. This was a morning full of surprises. Francis taking care of somebody was nearly unheard of, he generally shied away from healing or even being healed by the others, if he could help it. He was completely astonished to hear that Doc had returned, bringing supplies, no less! And finally, he couldn't remember Francis ever making a meal, although he would help on occasion, if asked nicely enough. He had just assumed the guy had never cooked a day in his life, so he was astonished by the breakfast Francis handed to him.

"Well, Francis, I never had you pegged for a gourmet cook," Bill grinned, as he tasted the omelet, gently ribbing him. "Always thought you took all your meals in either a prison dining hall or a bar".

"Huh," grunted the biker. "There's lots you don't know about me, old man. Don't strain yourself tryin' to figger it out either." Francis helped himself to the omelet, ham, potatoes and pancakes, grabbing some jelly to spread out on the pancakes. With a satisfied grin at his companions, he started to wolf it all down.

After the best meal he'd had in recent memory, Bill took his coffee outside for a quick smoke and a look around. He examined the dead zombies located not far from the door. There didn't seem to be any others in sight, he was pleased to see. With a sigh, he went back in and headed over to check on Doc. She was still quietly sleeping as he took a look at her injuries. Her nose had been broken, and now she had black eyes to go along with it. He checked out the other scrapes and cuts. Francis wasn't kidding, Bill thought, they really did take some chunks out of her. But everything looked pretty clean and he noted that Francis had done everything just as well as he himself would have done. He wondered where the huge scrape had come from, it did look like bad road rash, he wasn't sure how she managed to get that. Well, in any event, it seemed she had learned a valuable lesson about what lay outside the safe-room.

Although they had originally planned to continue on their journey that day, they unanimously decided to wait one more day, hoping that Doc would be able to travel with them tomorrow. She slept until late afternoon, finally shuffling slowly into the main room. Zoey and Louis both stared at her in shock, they hadn't seen her yet, and she looked like one of the undead, a really screwed up one at that. Her clothes were still covered in blood, she looked very pale and both eyes were blackened. The duct-taped nose and blackened eyes made her look a little bit like a zombie football player.

"Hey, look what the cat dragged in. How ya feelin'?" Francis said as he got up to offer her a seat.

"Said the cat", she replied, giving him a wan smile, "OK, I guess. I think I'll live, just won't enjoy it for a while", she said, wincing as she sat. "It's a good lesson for me, I suppose. Note to self: do not go out and get hammered while out alone in woods full of creatures that want to kill you. My head is killin' me, got any pain meds around here?"

Francis brought her some pills and water, which she gratefully downed after thanking him.

"You did WHAT ?!" Bill said, in exasperation. "Maybe you should start from the top and tell us what happened last night. I'm still having a hard time believing you did something so foolish as to go out alone, barefoot and unarmed, at night, and now you're telling me you went and got drunk to boot?!"

"Well," she began, looking cautiously at him, "I warned you I was going stir crazy. I really hate being confined. Anyway, after I got out of the safe-room, I started walking through the woods, along a little trail. I didn't have any problems, and was just thinking that all that zombie stuff you all were telling me was pure grade-A bullshit. I came to a little clearing, when all of a sudden I heard a huge roar, the ground started shaking, and a giant pink thing came charging toward me."

Bill, Zoey, Francis and Louis all looked at each other, wide-eyed, thinking pretty much the same thing. Holy shit, she ran into a tank! And, double holy shit, she somehow lived through it!

Doc continued, "The thing started throwing chunks of the ground at me, and I started dodging around. It chased after me, but I just kept jumping and dodging it as best I could. Finally, I didn't jump quite fast enough and it whacked me and sent me flying through the air. It threw me clean off the side of a gully, and I skidded down the side of it on the rocks and shale all the way to a ledge. I think it thought I was dead, it rampaged along the edge of the gully for a while, but didn't come down. Eventually it went away and I managed to climb through some brambles down to the bottom and across a little stream. I just followed along the stream, hoping to come to a house with some people that might be able to help. I did come to a little empty cabin, so I broke into it and rummaged around looking for stuff. I piled up everything that I could use and put it in some pillowcases. I started thinking about what you had been saying about the virus and zombies and everybody being dead and it seemed like a good time to have a drink. After some deliberation and some more drinking, I decided to head back here. I'm not quite sure how I found my way back, but I ran into a number of those undead creatures. I didn't even know I was near this place until Francis popped out of the dark and killed the damn things surrounding me."

"Speaking of which," she continued, smiling at Francis, "Thanks for the save, perfect timing. And thanks for the first aid, sorry I faded out before I could thank you, I was a little wasted."

"No problem, don't mention it", growled Francis, looking away uncomfortably. He would never have guessed she was drunk last night if she hadn't said anything.

"So why did you decide to head back here?" asked Bill.

"Well, first of all, I want my stuff back and I need my weapons. I don't know if it was the scotch, or what, but I'm remembering bits and pieces of things that happened over the past few weeks. I'm guessing that this TARFU situation is all too real. There are still a lot of gaps, but I know I had gear and clothes with me at some point. I'm assuming that some of it is probably here, particularly since I recognized my katana when Francis was using it last night. Secondly, I figure I may as well throw in with you people and go to the evac zone, since I don't really have any other concrete plans at the moment. That's all assuming we can tolerate each other, of course", Doc replied.

Bill nodded, smiling slightly at the old TARFU acronym (Things Are Royally Fucked Up). "Yes, we've got all your things. We've kept everything pretty much together, except for a couple things we used a bit, and I'm afraid we ate the food. It's all over there", he said, gesturing to the corner containing her pack and belongings. "I think Louis might have your iPad, Zoey borrowed a jacket, and Francis can show you where the sword and other weapons are."

She got up and went over to the corner, sat down and started going through her things, starting to put them all back in order in the pack. She seemed really happy to see her weapons again, although Francis was reluctant to part with his favorites, the katana, Desert Eagle and AA12 shotgun.

Seeing this, she said, "Why don't you keep the shotty for now? I don't really need it, don't think I even used it yet, that I can recall anyway."

"Yeah, OK, if you don't want it", he answered her with a shrug, not wanting to show how pleased he really was.

She also told Zoey she could continue to use her leather jacket, that she didn't need it since she had her thermal sweatshirt. She reclaimed the katana, Eagle, Beretta/knife combo and the Benelli auto shotty, as well as her bow and staff and other knives. She carted it all back to her room, and after a while, emerged wearing the camo clothes she had on when she first met them, the Desert Eagle holstered under one arm. Bill couldn't help wondering how many of the knives she might be wearing right now. Probably every damned one of them, he thought to himself, shaking his head.

She walked over, found the bottle of cognac and poured a mug of it. Drinking it slowly, she somberly looked them over. She wasn't sure she was making a good decision in going with them, but there didn't seem to be much choice, if even half of what they told her was true.

Bill arched an eyebrow at her. Seeing this, she offered to pour one for him, but he shook his head. She offered to pour some for the others, but they also declined.

She shrugged and topped off her mug. "May we all be alive at the same time next year", she gave the traditional toast as she saluted with the mug and rapidly drained it, setting the it down and heading back to her room. Honestly, she had sincere doubts that all of them, or maybe any of them, would be alive in a week's time, let alone a year's. They were poorly equipped and supplied, didn't really know where they were going and she had doubts about the abilities of some of the group's members. Bill and Francis looked like they could take care of themselves well enough, but she wasn't so sure about Louis and the young woman, Zoey. Those two looked like they would need babysitting through the whole thing.

Bill just shook his head, while the others looked at each other and shrugged. Their newest member clearly had some quirks. Hopefully none that would end up killing any of them.

They ate a fairly decent dinner, utilizing the food scavenged by Doc. Bill couldn't help but notice that Doc ate an astonishing amount for a person her size, but then he reminded himself, she hadn't eaten anything for days.

"Sorry", she said guiltily, realizing how much she had just devoured. "If we need to talk at all before setting off tomorrow, better do it now. I'll be crashed out and asleep in about 30 minutes, I'm afraid."

"That's ok", said Bill. "Not too much to talk about, we can cover it tomorrow before we leave, over breakfast".

"You'll need to put fresh ointment on all those cuts and scrapes tonight." Francis reminded her.

"OK, I think I can handle most of it, except the stuff I can't reach on my back. I'll need some help with that", she replied.

"Ummm…guess I can help, if you want", Francis answered hesitantly, "I should check that I got all the grit and splinters out anyways."

Bill arched his brow, glancing at Francis. Something had sure gotten into the young man, he thought to himself. First he cooked breakfast without being asked, and now he volunteers to help take care of somebody? It looked like Francis was turning over a new leaf.

A short while later, in Doc's little room, she carefully spread antibiotic ointment over her scratches and bites, while Francis set up and applied dressings to the larger wounds. They pulled out a few pieces of gravel and wood splinters that were missed the night before. Finally, she lay down and pulled her shirt up in back so that Francis could inspect the scrape and apply ointment.

"The tattoo work is pretty righteous, what does it mean?" asked Francis as he carefully started rubbing ointment into the large scrape.

"The ones running down the back are for the various martial arts I've practiced, there's a symbol and the name of the art in native writing for each one. The scorpion is my astrological sign and also sort of my personal symbol: small, unassuming, so ugly it's beautiful, while also being highly dangerous", she said with a smile.

"Groovy…" he said, counting the symbols, as he continued to add ointment to the large scrape. Seven symbols, he didn't know there even were that many different martial arts. "I dig the scorpion, too, though I don't think you could really be described as "ugly" at all", he continued, with a chuckle.

"Ha!" she laughed, "That's only because you don't know me that well yet. I know a lot of folks who would disagree with you there, personality-wise and otherwise!"

They lapsed into silence at that point, as Francis continued to apply and gently rub in the ointment. His gentle rubbing was so soothing that, in spite of the painful scrape, she soon nodded off.

Francis smiled, for some strange reason, this made him feel good. Being seen as a trusted companion and treated as a person with value was pretty new to him, but he was really beginning to like the way it felt. Doc didn't seem to be put off by his gruff nature, didn't treat him like he was a scary dumb thug, the way the others in the group often did. She seemed to trust him, even though she barely knew him. The hostile, aloof, tough guy exterior he had always cultivated was slowly beginning to show signs of cracking.


	8. Dead To Rights

The next morning, over another hearty breakfast of fried ham with mac and cheese, this time prepared by Louis, they discussed their plans. Bill thought they should do their usual formation: Francis on point, Bill and Zoey on right/left flank, and Louis in back, keeping an eye on their six. Bill thought that Doc should be with Louis, and keep to the rear. Doc protested, pointing out that she would mainly be using her katana and belonged in the front. She pointed out that she could kill individual zombies quietly as they moved forward, using her bow and katana, and that way avoid attracting any unwanted attention from nearby zombies. As a compromise, they decided that she could be up front with Francis, backing him up on point.

They then decided to follow the small trail that Doc had taken the night before. It was the only obvious trail leading away from their small safe-room, so there wasn't much choice. Bill was concerned about meeting the tank that Doc had encountered, but there was no help for it. They would have to keep on their toes and hope they would be lucky enough to avoid it. They reviewed their pitiful list of supplies, noting how little food they had, only enough for a few more meals. Bill was hoping there would be another safe-room nearby, but there was just no way of knowing.

They gathered up all of their belongings and secured them in the packs. Doc had the biggest pack, simply because she had more equipment than most of them, and her hiking pack had an internal frame and was the largest and the easiest to fit the food and other supplies in. Due to her injuries, however, there was no way she could carry it. The scrape on her back was raw, and she could not carry anything of weight. Bill suggested they could take turns carrying it, but to his surprise, Francis offered to carry it.

"I'll carry it, no problem", he said. "I don't have much of anything in my pack anyway, so I can just put mine in the big one and carry it that way." Like many survivors, Francis had been plunged into the apocalypse with just the clothes on his back. He typically just had some ammo, snacks, meds and a water bottle in his small backpack.

"Thanks, Francis," Doc said, giving him a clap on the shoulder, "You're awesome, man."

Bill could have sworn he saw Francis blush. When he observed Bill looking at him, Francis returned a steely-eyed death glare until he looked away.

Instead of the pack, Doc would carry her sword, staff and bow and arrows . She gave her auto-shotty to Louis to use. "My motto is: Violence in Silence" she told them, "I almost never use a gun if I can avoid it. Too noisy, attracts unwanted attention."

They set off on the trail, leaving the safe-room in their wake. Francis and Doc were leading, followed by Zoey and Bill and finally Louis. They had gone only about a mile when they were charged by a small pack of infected. The zombies threw themselves at Doc, who efficiently decapitated them with her sword, and Francis, who used the AA12 for the first time. The shotgun rang out loudly, as Bill, Zoey and Louis moved up to assist. Pretty soon, they could hear howling coming from all over in the woods.

"Holy shit, here they come!" yelled Francis, who threw the pack down to free himself up for fighting.

Soon they were surrounded, zombies coming at them from all directions. It was like a wall of rotten flesh, gaping maws and grasping decaying limbs rolling toward them. They bunched together, firing rapidly, as Doc moved along crouching next to them, slicing the creatures down as soon as they came within reach. Suddenly, a giant zombie with an enormous arm charged out of the horde into their group, mowing them down. Francis, Zoey and Louis were thrown through the air. Bill, caught by the charging creature, was pushed across the clearing into a tree. The zombie clutched him, picking him up and smashing him into the ground, as Bill cried out in pain. Fortunately, the charging zombie had missed Doc, and she was able to rush to Bill's aid. Two quick swipes with the sword and the hideously misshapen charger was dead. Doc helped Bill to his feet, and they turned to rejoin the rest of the group. It was pure chaos. A hunter had pounced Francis, and Zoey and Louis were separated, surrounded by infected, they were desperately trying to battle free of their attackers to go help him. Doc and Bill rescued Francis from the hunter and all three were finally able to battle their way over and join up with Louis and Zoey. The zombie horde was dying down, and eventually they managed to extinguish it. Exhausted, they quickly gathered their packs and moved further down the trail.

"Geezum, that was a massive clusterfuck!" observed Doc. "What's the damage?" Francis had some deep slashes on his chest and some bruises. Bill was badly bruised and had some cracked or broken ribs from the charger, while Zoey and Louis had escaped with only mild bruising and scratches. Doc was unhurt, the only injury being a blister from using the gore-covered sword on so many zombies. "We're not going to make it 2 miles, if we continue like this," she observed, as she helped Bill do a temporary tape job on Francis' wounds, butterflying the wounds together and taping them down.

"You have any better suggestions?" Bill snapped in irritation, wincing at the pain shooting down his side.

"Um, yeah…actually, I do. I know I'm the group's FNG, but seriously, we need to move through these woods a lot quieter. The first group of zombies came out at us because they heard us, we hadn't even seen them yet. I think it would be better if I go farther out in front to scout. No offense, Francis, but you are nowhere near as quiet in the woods as I am. I'm camouflaged pretty well, and you're just too visible. I'll go up ahead and scout, I should be able to spot them before they hear or see me, and I'll signal back to you as needed. If I see just one or two lone zombies, I'll get rid of them with either the bow or sword, so as not to alert any others. If there's a big bunch of them, we should detour around them, if possible. It'll be a little slower going, but a hell of a lot safer. We need to keep a super low profile out here" she replied, as she replaced the med supplies in the pack.

"Um, what the heck is an FNG?" Zoey couldn't help wondering.

"Fucking New Guy", Bill explained as he wondered where she picked up all the military jargon. She didn't strike him as somebody who had served.

"I don't like it," Francis said, frowning, "It's too exposed, you could be killed before we could get up there to help."

"Francis, trust me, I may be new to you people, but I'm not new to this. I didn't make it this far alone by being easy to kill. You'll be on point behind me, you'll be near enough if I need your help. I think our best bet is to avoid confrontations, and move through here as quietly as possible. If we go through, guns blazing, we're going to be annihilated. We were almost overwhelmed just now. What would have happened if I hadn't been around to rescue Bill, and we weren't able to get to you in time? Zoey and Louis might have been able to fend off the rest of these things eventually, but you would both have been dead by then," she pointed out. "We need to be smart about this, and trying to force our way through hordes using firepower isn't smart, especially with limited ammo."

"All right," said Bill, "We'll try it your way and see how it goes. Keep alert, everybody, and no talking."

They started off again, this time with Doc moving ahead of them about 200 feet or so. It did seem to go a bit more smoothly, Doc was able to quietly dispatch numerous zombies without a sound. Francis would find them lying on or near the trail, taken down with the sword or her bow. Every now and then he would spot a live zombie near their trail and finish it with the axe he had found at the safe-room. Doc would occasionally slide quietly back to him, call a halt, and they would detour around areas with larger groups of zombies.

They came across a few camping shelters, but found no cabins. In the late afternoon, they encountered a large barn. In the barnyard, piles of dead cattle and hogs lay bloated and covered in flies. Doc insisted on searching the barn, even though the rest of them wanted to move on and get away from the pervasive stench surrounding the place. A few infected lurked inside, but were easily disposed of with Doc's sword and Francis' axe.

"What the hell are we doing in here, anyway?" asked Francis with an annoyed growl. "Nothin' in here but rotten livestock and feed, nothin' useable."

"To the uninitiated, that may appear to be true," replied Doc, quickly moving about the barn as she searched. "Aha, found it!" she exclaimed, as she opened a large trunk and started rummaging through it.

"Found what?" Francis asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Meds and supplies for the livestock. Some of this stuff works great on people, too", she replied as she selected numerous items. Hopping back on the trunk, she stuffed them into the pack Francis carried.

"Oh sure, load me up like a damned pack mule," Francis complained with a grimace. "This shit better be worth packing around, or I'm goin' on strike and you can carry your own crap", he said, shifting the big pack around.

"Stop whining, dude. So unbecoming to the tough guy act," she answered him with a grin and pat on the shoulder as she headed out to rejoin the others.

He followed, shaking his head. She saw right through him, it seemed he wouldn't be able to bullshit his way around her like he did everyone else. Man, he really hated that.

They decided to continue on up the trail on the other side of the barn, hoping to find the farmhouse and maybe a safe-room. They found the farmhouse, but it was a burnt out ruin, complete with burned bodies inside, infected or not, they couldn't tell. They had bunched up to talk when suddenly Louis cried out.

"Oh shit!" he screamed, turning around to come face to face with an infected, wearing overalls and a horribly stained t-shirt that once was white, that had just lurched out from the brush, gaping maw heading for his throat. Without thinking, he fired his shotgun straight into its head. The zombie collapsed, head obliterated.

"Goddamnit, sonofabitch!", Bill swore, as howling erupted eerily in the woods all around them. It sounded like an army of zeds was now descending on them.

"Quick, everybody in the upstairs loft of the barn!" Doc shouted, turning to bolt back to the barn. "We can try to hold them off from up there!"

Running into the barn, they all scrambled up into the loft. Doc was hoping that they could use the advantage of only having one way up into the loft as a bottleneck to slow the horde down and pick off the zombies as they came up the ladder. Once up in the loft, however, they found holes in the roof that could also allow the zombies to get at them, if they could get on the roof. There was nothing to do but try to make the best of it, so they hunkered down and got ready to fight.

Doc was going to rely on her sword, with her pistol as backup, while Francis decided to start with his axe, but go to the AA12 shotgun once the crowd of zombies got thicker. Louis would use Doc's autoshotty, while Zoey had her submachine gun and Bill, of course, his trusty M16. Bill looked at his companions grimly, hoping it would be enough.

The zombies poured into the loft in an undead frenzy, the little group was hopelessly outnumbered. They held their own pretty well, until the infected started climbing onto the roof and dropping into the loft from numerous openings. Once that happened, they were badly overrun, as the zombies forced them away from each other.

Doc heard a weird trilling noise and looked up at the roof, spotting a hideous, thin zombie dripping a strange green fluid. Suddenly, the zombie spewed a stream of the fluid down on them, covering them with the goo, which burned like acid. She shot the creature with her pistol and it exploded in a puddle of more goo. They quickly moved to get away from the noxious liquid, it irritated and burned their skin and distracted them enough that the common infected were able to inflict some injuries.

Francis began to use the AA12, it's loud and rapid booming were nearly deafening in the little loft. Louis wasn't able to find the time to reload any more and was using the shotgun as a bludgeon, while Bill relentlessly fired into the horde, jamming clip after clip on the M16. Zoe knelt between them, firing her submachine gun until she was out of ammo, switching to her sidearm.

Seeing the zombies pouring in from the roof, Doc jumped out of the loft and climbed to the peak of the roof, firing the Eagle almost continuously down into the zombies as they climbed up the roof and into the horde inside the loft. With fewer zombies able to make it through the roof, the group inside the loft were finally able to gain control. As they finished off the last of the zombies, they heard a strangled shout from Doc. She had been standing on the peak of the roof above them just moments ago, but now was nowhere in sight.

Francis dashed from the loft onto the roof and climbed to the peak, just in time to see Doc dragged from the roof and into the trees nearby. Bill was right behind him, but could not make out a target to safely shoot at.

It looked as if Doc had been grabbed by one of the zombies they called smokers, due to their coughing cries when attacking and the smoke they exuded when killed. The smokers had specialized tongues, which they used to ensnare their victims, constricting them and dragging them off. With a curse, Francis ran down the roof, jumped off and dashed into the trees. He pushed through the dense woods, following the sounds of a struggle, with Bill following close behind.

In the shade of a pine tree, Francis found the smoker and Doc. The smoker had its tongue wound around Doc's neck and chest, choking the life from her as it beat her with its fists. She was weakly struggling in its grip, beaten nearly insensible, as she tried to use her combat knife to stab at it and saw through the tongue. Francis snarled at the smoker as he fired almost point blank into its head. The smoker fell dead, in a choking haze of green smoke, but its tongue maintained a choking hold on his victim, who was turning blue and had gone still. Bill arrived just in time to help Francis unwind the slimy appendage, releasing Doc from its hold. She lay unmoving on the ground until Bill gave her a sharp slap on the face, which brought her coughing and gasping back to life.

Doc awoke, gasping and looking up from the ground to see the concerned faces of Francis and Bill hovering over her. With a relieved smile, Francis said, "Come on, lazy-can't have ya layin' around all day." Grasping her hand, he practically launched her to her feet. Unsteady, she leaned against him, still coughing and wheezing.

"I forgot about those long-tongued bastards, never had a chance to get up close and personal with them before", she gasped out. "Yech, that's disgusting", she continued, eying the long, slimy tongue on the ground.

"Yep", agreed Francis. "Let's get the hell out of this crap. I hate smokers", he said, as he steadied Doc and helped her away from the choking haze of smoke.

"Wow," she chuckled weakly, "That was almost a bad stereotype, first time out, the FNG gets waxed. Like a bad movie plot…"

Bill shook his head, frowning. He didn't find it funny, she didn't realize how close she came to being yet another FNG that died on his watch. Another minute and it probably would have been too late.

They regrouped with Zoey and Louis on the trail next to the barn. Taking stock of their injuries, the little group realized that they had gotten off pretty lightly, considering the huge pile of zombie corpses lying in the loft. All of the injuries were relatively minor, scratches and bruises and a couple bites. Doc got the worst of it, with bruises on her head, throat, and ribs, as well as a large knot and cut on the back of her head from being dragged off the roof onto the ground by the smoker. Francis was still bleeding from the slashing given him by the hunter.

After some discussion, it was decided that Doc would drop back to stay just in front of Francis on point. She felt unable to continue to run back and forth while scouting farther ahead, confessing to them that she was exhausted after her encounter with the smoker. Bill fervently hoped they would find shelter soon, as they were all nearly stumbling from exhaustion, and as they grew more tired he worried they would make mistakes and get into even more trouble.

They started off, with Doc positioned just ahead of Francis. As they walked, Francis couldn't help noticing that Doc would occasionally reach down and pluck the leaves off a small plant, putting some in her pocket or chewing on them, as they went along. Finally, he just had to ask when they stopped for a short water break. "What is that stuff and why are you eating it?"

She looked at him, somewhat surprised he didn't know. "It's wintergreen, you know, sorta like a peppermint flavor? I like wintergreen, chew it instead of gum. And you don't eat it, you just chew on it and spit it out once the flavor's gone. It also contains an aspirin-like substance, it's a mild pain killer. Wanna try some?" She offered a few of the deep green leaves to him, he could smell a faint mint-like scent.

Francis shook his head. If it was bacon flavored, maybe. He'd never even heard of wintergreen, sounded like something his grandparents would have liked. 'Course he'd never actually met them, so who knows?

Luckily for the little group, they did find a safe-room several miles away. It was built into the side of a hill, and they gratefully entered the musty room, looking forward to some rest and food. It was a single small room, with a small camp stove, folding table and little else.

They trudged into the little room, as Francis, with a big grin announced, "All right! This is just gettin' to be fun!" The rest of the group eyed him sourly.

Doc arched an eyebrow at him, "Really? Are we having fun yet? 'Cause somebody really needs to let me know." She started shedding her weapons into a pile on the floor.

Francis smirked at her, "That was nothin', they haven't even warmed up yet. And, yeah, it IS fun! Any zombie fight you can crawl away from means you won, and shooting those things to shit is fun."

She just rolled her eyes at him. "Guess it must depend on your definition of fun. I mean, I like the odd mauling as much as the next person, but this may be a little too much fun for even my taste." She eyed her collection of injuries with a grimace. She started to retrieve the med supplies from the big pack to start patching everybody back together.

Doc and Bill tended the group's wounds, cleaning them with antiseptic and coating them with antibiotic ointment. While Bill had plenty of field experience with wounds due to his time in the army, Doc had experience doing surgeries on a wide variety of animals, as well as field experience treating wounded livestock. She also used to teach human anatomy and physiology, as well as anatomy in the medical school, so she felt comfortable doctoring other people.

Bill couldn't help but think how appropriate her nickname really was as he watched her work, since "Doc" was what they always used to call the platoon medic.

She used some stable bandages she had found in the barn to bind up Bill's cracked ribs, along with tape, helping to stabilize them enough so that he could breathe and move with less pain. Last up was Francis, who had deep slashes from the hunter that needed to be cleaned up, probably some stitches. He had been hanging back, hoping they would forget about it and leave him alone.

"All right, big guy. Take off the shirt and vest and jump up here", Doc said to him, patting the small table. He looked at the scissors, suture thread and needles she had laid out, feeling queasy.

"No, it's fine with just some antiseptic and ointment. Besides, you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me if I do that", he said, giving her a leering smile, crossing his arms over his bleeding chest. He didn't want her touching his naked chest, just thinking about it made him uncomfortable. If he acted disgusting enough, maybe she would refuse to work on him.

She just laughed, "Well, I think that's the point. Cleaning and stitching is pretty much a hands on deal. C'mon, I don't bite. Unless you were to ask real nice, that is." She gave him a crooked smirk, throwing it right back at him.

Bill looked up from the bedding where he was trying to rest his aching body and growled, "Don't be an ass, Francis! Let her fix you up! If those wounds go septic, we're not hauling your giant gorilla ass outta here!"

Grumbling, Francis peeled his vest and what was left of his grimy and torn tank top off and thumped himself down on the table, which creaked in protest. "Fine, but no needles", he announced with a frown. He hated needles.

"Sorry, we might have to do a little stitching, I'll do the best I can," she said as she examined the gashes, wiping the sweat running down her brow. "I think we can get away with only a few areas really needing stitching. Here, have something to drink, it'll help take your mind off it", she continued, as she poured a mug of cognac and handed it to him. He swallowed down the entire mug in practically one gulp, glancing uneasily at the needles.

She took the mug, put more cognac in it and drank it down. Francis' jaw dropped open. She looked at him quizzically. "What? It's not like I'm driving anywhere…"

"Bill!" Francis protested to the older man.

"Doc!" Bill growled a warning at her.

"Francis!" She turned to the big man, with a grin. "OK, your turn…"

Francis frowned at her. "You're not exactly fillin' me with confidence. You do know what you're doin', right?"

She rolled her eyes at him, as she grabbed some betadine, and began gently scrubbing the wounds to clean and disinfect them. "Relax, I could down a fifth and still be fine for this, it's cake. It's been a little while since I worked on a live one though. You're not gonna scream or anything are you? I'm definitely not used to my patients screaming…" she grinned up at him. "You see, I learned most of my stuff in the anatomy labs, teaching medical students. I also worked as a diener for a while…" she then took a small bottle and syringe, and before he could object, expertly injected around the sites that would require stitching.

"A what?" Francis asked, distracted from the needle sticks.

"A diener, which roughly translates into corpse servant. Embalming and preparing the cadavers, doing dissections in the anatomy labs…" the slashed areas became numb and she began to carefully stitch the deeper wounds together. He could feel the thread tugging, but not much pain at all. She finished stitching, applied some 3 way antibiotic ointment scavenged from the barn, and covered the wounds with gauze and some tape. She turned away for a moment, before turning back, grasping his bicep firmly, she gave a quick swipe with antiseptic and injected some antibiotics. He frowned and rubbed the sore spot.

"So the take home message here is, no matter which way this turns out," she gently tapped his chest with her knuckle, "I've got your back!" She gave him a tired grin.

"Very funny. Your bedside manner sucks, just so ya know." Francis stood up, looking down at her work. She'd done a professional job, better than either he or Bill were capable of.

She just shrugged. "Mine is more of a slab side manner, but I've never had any complaints before...We'll have to keep a close eye on those, check them at least once a day until they're fully healed. That antibiotic ointment is the best though, I've had lots of luck with it", she said as she cleaned up.

She rummaged through her pack, saying "Here, take this, it's an extra-large, used to use it for sleeping in. It might be a little small, but at least it's clean. You can't put that filthy shirt back on." She handed him a tank top, black with an orange HD logo. He carefully shrugged it on, it was a bit snug but not too bad. Thankfully it wasn't pink or some other fruity color, he thought.

"Sorry, folks, but I'm going to crash, I'm almost out on my feet. Don't bother waking me to eat, just wake me for my watch shift" Doc announced as she wearily threw some bedding against the wall.

"Nice try, Doc, but not so fast. You've got cuts and scrapes to be seen to. Come on back over here," Francis said with a frown.

"It's fine, Francis. Nothing major, it can wait until tomorrow, I'm too tired to deal with it right now, really", she replied, shaking her head tiredly.

"By tomorrow it could already be infected. You know that, now get the fuck over here," he said with some irritation. She frowned at him, he was right, she was just too tired to care about it right now. Sighing, she trudged over and slumped in irritation down on the table.

"Come on, you have to at least take the sweatshirt off. Don't make me do it for you", Francis warned with an annoyed rumble.

Reluctantly, Doc unzipped the camo sweatshirt and peeled it off. "What the hell! You're soaking wet!" Francis said with concern.

Peevish, she replied, "What do you expect? You know, for every step all of you have been taking, I've been doing more than double that, running back and forth. Plus I've been killing the majority of the zombies on the trail. I'm just exhausted, totally done in, that's all."

Francis reached out, laying the back of his hand on her forehead. She slapped it away in annoyance. "I don't know, but I think it's more than that. I think you're runnin' a fever", he said. "Bill", he called, turning to the older man, "check it out, will ya?"

Bill got up and came over and gently felt her forehead. "Yep," he agreed, "Feels that way to me, too, plus you look a bit flushed. Let's have a look at the cuts and scrapes, see if any are obviously infected."

Francis and Bill poked and peered at the assorted injuries, but none of them looked particularly bad. Doc took some anti-inflammatories, in the hope that would take care of the fever. She changed into a dry t-shirt and shorts, then Francis carefully cleaned all of the cuts, including the new one on her head, and bandaged them up.

Doc was completely exhausted, she began to lean her forehead against him as she struggled to stay upright. Finally, she fell sound asleep against him, leaving him to awkwardly balance her as he finished up. He picked her up carefully, placed her down on the bedding, then pushed up the t-shirt in back to rub ointment into her scrape. It was beginning to scab up, it was important to keep the ointment on or it would dry up and begin to crack and seep.

As he was doing all this, the others were glancing at him and looking at each other in surprise. This was far from the gruff and disagreeable man they were used to dealing with, who seemed to complain about any and everything and hated, well, just about everything. This was a side of Francis they had never seen before, and they weren't sure what to make of it.

Francis turned back and noticed that everyone seemed to be eyeing him. "What?!" he said defensively, as he hung up the wet clothing to dry on some nails.

"Not a thing, young man", Bill assured him, "Looks like you're doing a damned fine job, that's all."

Francis merely grunted in reply, without looking at them. He hated compliments, he thought to himself, stifling a smirk.

They wearily scrounged a supper together from what was left in their packs, eating quietly. Doc continued to sleep and they let her, she could eat later if she felt up to it. They quickly decided on the watches; Louis first, Zoey second, Francis third and Bill last.


	9. Dead to the World

A steely gray day dawned to greet Bill, who was smoking and looking out the door. A cold front had come in, the chill almost visibly descending on them. Worse yet, it was pouring out, turning the trails into a slick muck. Bill, disgusted, realized they wouldn't be going anywhere today. If they did, they would most likely all end up with pneumonia, if they weren't attacked and slaughtered outright. The heavy rain made it difficult to see very far, and their chances of blundering into a mass of zombies would be greatly increased. Bill cursed, flicking the cigarette butt out through the bars in the door, watching it sputter out in the rain, as he rubbed his beard.

They spent the day resting and recovering, cleaning weapons and filling clips. While they still had a fair amount of shotgun shells, Bill quickly realized he would need ammo for his M16 and Zoey would need some for the submachine gun soon as well. Nothing they could do about it right now, but they better find some ammo or other weapons ASAP.

Doc spent the day lying on her bedding, barely moving, as the fever worsened. Francis coaxed her into eating a little bit and drinking some water. In spite of the cold weather, her skin felt hot to the touch and she was sweating profusely. It didn't look good and they were all worried.

Francis was visibly upset and restless, pacing or absentmindedly loading and unloading shells into the shotgun. He hated feeling helpless. He was also worried, wondering if the others had considered the possibility he couldn't stop thinking about. What if she was coming down with the Green Flu? She had gotten scratched and bit just a short while ago. He had seen so many people become infected and turn. Finally, he couldn't keep it to himself any longer, so he brought it up with the others.

Bill nodded, he had been thinking the same thing. It seemed like some people became infected and ill and turned within minutes, while others took days. After lengthy consideration, Bill got up and took out some handcuffs he had found on a dead MP the other day, walked over to the ill woman and handcuffed one wrist to a pipe running up the wall. They couldn't afford to have her loose, if she did turn. He had no idea when or even what she might turn into, but having seen her in action, he feared what might happen.

Francis looked on, frowning, knowing there was no point in arguing with Bill. He was only trying to protect them. Soon they were all lost in thought, remembering the people, some friends and family, they had seen turn from human into the inhuman creatures they were now forced to kill…

_Bill_

_ When the flu hit, Bill was alone, keeping to himself as usual. In his tiny apartment, he watched the TV reporters going on about this new epidemic with some disinterest. They were always hyping some damn thing, blowing it completely out of proportion, just for the damned drama, he supposed. He was scheduled to be going to the hospital soon for what the docs were calling a "simple procedure". Simple, my ass! Bill thought. Losing a chunk of your lung is simple? He wondered if the hospital would call and cancel his appointment due to this outbreak. He wished they would, he would take any excuse to avoid the operation and the resulting stay at the veteran's hospital. The whole thing would be too goddamned depressing for words, no family or friends to visit him, just the damned walls to stare at, Bill thought with a shudder._

_They did not call to cancel his procedure, so Bill got himself down to the hospital. He couldn't help but notice the many ill patients in the corridors and how chaotic the usually well-ordered hospital seemed. He was checked in and they were prepping him for the surgery, they had just started the drugs and IV drip, when a nurse stumbled into his little cubicle. She vomited on the floor, then staggered towards him as he lay on the bed. Without any warning, she launched herself on top of him and began scratching and flailing at him. Stunned, Bill kicked her off and jumped up to get the hell out of there. She came right back at him, now she was trying to bite him! He grabbed a metal pan and bashed her over the head with it, knocking her to the ground. She clutched at his legs, trying to drag him down and bite him at the same time. He stomped on her head, hearing a crunch, and she slumped to the ground. _

_Bill jammed his clothes back on and took off, horrified at what had just happened. As he ran through the hospital he noticed other infected people attacking and sometimes devouring their prey. It was too much for his drugged mind to take in, he fled in terror, making his way back to his apartment in a stupor. After his head had cleared, he turned the TV back on, only to hear that the city was being evacuated! He immediately went downstairs to check on Gail, an elderly woman that he rented his apartment from and sometimes did handy work for. There was no answer to his knock, but the door was unlocked, as it often was. Calling her name, Bill went in. He could hear shuffling in the back bedroom, and the sound of music playing. Bill knocked on the door, but getting no response, he entered the dark room, calling for Gail. He turned on the light, but saw no sign of her. He was just about to leave when he heard sounds coming from the closet. Opening the closet door, he was startled to see Gail crouched on the ground, tearing at something. She immediately turned on him, her face gray and eyes gray and filmy, blood covering her mouth and hands. He stumbled backwards as she attacked him, clutching at his throat and trying to bite him. She was far stronger than he, and quickly overwhelmed him, but she was no match for his combat knife, which he had been wearing at his side. He had to nearly sever her head before she stopped clawing at him. Disgusted, he pushed away from her body before looking in the closet. What he saw made him vomit. Gail's little grandson, torn to shreds, lay on the floor. He stumbled back upstairs and began to prepare for his last war._

_Zoey_

_The college had just made the announcement, all classes were cancelled until further notice and all students needed to clear the dorms and go home immediately due to the epidemic. Zoey, however, had other plans. She had absolutely no intention of going home, it was a freaking war zone with her parents impending divorce, plus her last semester's failing grades were sure to put her in the line of fire. No, she would keep a low profile and hang out at the dorm, at least until somebody from the college forced her to leave. _

_Unfortunately, her father found out about the campus closure and had other plans for her. He called her and arranged to pick her up and bring her home. Her mom would be coming, too. That was great, just great!, she thought to herself. An hour long ride in the car, with the two of them at war. She angrily began to pack her things for the trip. She dragged her trunk downstairs and waited for her ride into purgatory._

_She saw the car pull up and took her belongings out to it, her Dad got out and popped the trunk without a word. The grim set to his jaw told her she was really in for it this time._

_"Zoey, what the hell are you thinking?" he began, once they were settled inside. "It's a goddamned epidemic out there, and you try to play games about coming home?" he continued._

_"Hi, Dad, nice to see you, too", she replied sarcastically. She noticed that her mother had not even bothered to say hello to her. Another fantastic sign of things to come, she thought. "Hey, mom", she offered timidly. Her mother didn't answer._

_"Zoey, your mother is not feeling well, and you've got both of us worried sick", her father explained. Zoey glanced at her mom, she looked kind of gray and seemed to be shivering, suddenly, she vomited all over the front of the car._

_"Jesus Christ! Couldn't you ask me to pull over?" yelled her father. He swerved the car to the side of the road and jumped out. He went to the passenger side to help his wife out, but when he opened the door she knocked him to the ground and began to scratch and bite at him. Her strength was entirely disproportionate to her size, he couldn't seem to get her off._

_"Help, Zoey, help me!", he shrieked. Zoey tried to pull her mom off, but was flicked away with ease. Thinking fast, Zoey popped the trunk, grabbed the tire iron and hit her mother on the head, hoping to knock her out. The blow had no effect, however, so she hit her again, harder. It didn't seem to make any difference. Her father screamed in agony as he was bit and scratched, so Zoey began to pound the tire iron repeatedly into her mother, until she finally collapsed. Zoey sobbed hysterically, as she tried to help her father up._

_"No, Zoey!", he gasped. "It's no good, I'm finished. Even if I don't die from this, I'll become one of them. You know what you have to do."_

_"No, Dad, we can get help!" she cried, "Stay with me, get up!" She tried to help him up, but it was no use. There were no cars on the road and no passersby to help her, the city looked like a ghost town._

_"No, Zoey, go get my service revolver. It's in the glove compartment", he said, "I don't want to turn into one of them, I don't want to attack you. You know what you need to do", he continued, letting his head fall back._

_Whimpering, Zoey got the gun. She did what he had taught her to do, bullet in the chamber, safety off. "Bye, Dad. I love you", she said as she took aim and squeezed off several rounds. She couldn't even look afterwards._

_Numbly, she stumbled back to the car and sat inside, gun in hand, staring sightlessly ahead. She didn't know how long she was sitting there, but she was startled back into the present by a knocking on the car window. Looking out, she saw an older gentleman, wearing a dark beret and military clothing, carrying an assault rifle of some kind._

_"Excuse me, young lady, but are you ok?" the man asked._

_She just shook her head, blinking away tears. She opened the door and stepped out._

_"I'm heading in toward downtown, I heard that there might be an evacuation center at the hospital. Why don't you come along with me? I could really use the company, and the two of us together should have a better chance of making it there" he said, as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He offered the pack toward her, but she just wrinkled her nose and shook her head._

_She gave him a small smile. "I'm Zoey. Who are you, and aren't you a little old to be in the army?"_

_He returned her smile, "Pleased to meet you, Zoey. I'm Sergeant William Overbeck, retired. You can call me Bill." _

_They set off down the road, heading toward the center of the city._

_Louis_

_He couldn't believe it. One little flu and the rest of the employees didn't bother to show up for work. Not that it really mattered that much, they didn't seem to have any customers, and now the city was talking about a curfew! Well, there were still things to be done, stock to put out and some repairs to some computers that needed to be completed, so he may as well stay busy. He unlocked the main door, just in case some customers came, and went in the back room to grab the laptops requiring repair. He brought them out, stacked them up and selected one to start with._

_The front door beeped, and a man entered. Louis smiled, "Can I help you with anything, sir?_

_"Yeah, gotta use your restroom. Where is it?" the man asked, coughing and clutching his stomach._

_Louis sighed and jerked a thumb toward the bathrooms. He went back to working on the laptop, wondering why anybody would bother repairing this clunker rather than just buy a new one. He'd been working on it for a while when he realized he hadn't seen the guy come back out of the john. He got up to go check it out. Entering the men's room, he noticed one of the stalls was occupied. _

_"Hey, man. You ok in there?" he asked, knocking on the stall. He received a grumbling groan in response. "Look, finish up and clear on out of here, you can't stay in here all day, all right?" Louis called, annoyed. He decided he might as well use the facilities, since he was already there. He was standing at the urinal when he felt a breath on his neck._

_"What the hell, man?!" Louis whipped around to confront the man. His anger disappeared to be replaced by horror, as he looked into the filmy-eyed, crazed and blood-covered face of the creature in front of him. He gasped as the creature lunged at him, sinking its teeth into his shoulder. He screamed and pushed the thing away from him. He looked desperately around him for a weapon, grabbing the only thing in sight, a toilet plunger. He beat the creature on the head, shattering the wooden handle, as the thing continued to lunge and claw at him. Finally, he plunged the broken shaft straight into its eye and out of the back of its skull. It sunk to the ground, dead._

_Louis looked around wildly wondering what the hell he had just done. He ran to the phone and dialed 911, only to get a recording, informing him that all dispatchers were taking other calls and to hold on the line. He cursed and hung up. Well, the police station was only a few blocks away. He would just lock up and head over to the station and let them handle it from there._

_Louis hurried to the station, staring in amazement at the car wrecks and looted shops scattered along the way. Maybe he should have been taking this whole thing a little bit more seriously, the epidemic was really getting out of hand. He entered the station, seeing some people standing by the front desk, he walked over to join them._

_Francis_

_He slouched on the bench in the jail cell, bored out of his mind. This was getting really old, it was time to move on and get the hell out of this city. Every time some big guy with tattoos committed a crime, the local cops rolled on him and chucked him in a cell, as if he was the only big dude around covered in tats. It just so happened they were right this time, he was the one who broke into that store and took the giant flat screen, but their automatic assumption that it had to be him was annoying. Anyway, it's not like everybody's brother and uncle weren't out there looting, too. Plus, it wasn't even something for himself, it was for the biker bar where he hung out with his buddies. Sort of like a Robin Hood situation, really. Well, hopefully one of his pals from the bar would be here soon to bail him out._

_The door to the cells opened up, admitting an officer and some drunken looking dude. The cop opened his cell and thrust the guy inside. He raised an eyebrow at that, they usually never put anybody in his cell unless they were trying to scare them, he had a rep for busting up cellmates. He couldn't help it, he hated the talkers, pounding them out was typically a good solution for that problem._

_"Here you go, Francis, buddy!" the officer smirked at him, "You looked lonely, so I brought you a friend. Watch out, though. This guy has been puking up a storm, he's stoned to the gills. Busted up the bar he was in. Thought you two would make a good couple." He laughed heartily as he locked the cell and left._

_Francis growled in annoyance. Just what he needed, some drunken prick puking all over the cell. The newcomer staggered over to a bench and threw himself down on it. He looked like shit, Francis thought. The man laid there, moaning, until suddenly he leaned off the bench and vomited, a huge puddle of green vomit mixed with blood. Francis sat bolt upright. Shit! There was something seriously wrong with the guy, he wasn't just drunk. Francis got up and started yelling at the door, trying to get the attention of the cops. Finally, one of the officers came in._

_"Yo, get this guy outta here. He's puking up blood, he needs to be in the hospital, man", Francis said as he eyeballed the disgusting mess on the floor._

_The cop glanced in. "OK, I'll call for somebody to transport him. It's gonna be a while though, the shit has really hit the fan on this epidemic. Hardly anybody left in the whole damn station."_

_"Well, get me the hell outta here, I ain't sharing a cell with a sick guy. Move me to one of the empty ones, or better yet, turn me loose", Francis replied._

_The cop sighed, "Fine, you know the drill." He took out his cuffs._

_Francis gave a snort of annoyance. He put his hands behind his back and backed up to the slot in the door, allowing the cop to handcuff him before opening the cell door. The cop opened up the door of the cell opposite, closed and locked it, then uncuffed Francis. He then went in the cell to check on the sick man._

_Francis whirled around when he heard the shriek. The sick dude had the cop down on the ground and was ripping into his throat with his teeth. Francis watched in horror as a large pool of blood spread on the floor. He tried to shout, but nothing was coming out of his constricted throat. Finally, he managed a howling roar for help. He kept it up, until the outer door opened once more. Another officer came in, looking at Francis, who quit yelling and pointed at the other cell. The cop drew his weapon, yelling at the creature savaging his fellow cop. It turned and looked at him, leapt up and charged. The officer shot it several times, without any effect. It bore the cop backward out of the cell, clutching at his throat and biting at his arms. The cop fell down, screaming as the creature gouged his face with its nails and bit into his throat. Francis could only watch in horror as the man's throat was ripped out. The creature looked up at him and started to reach through the bars, trying to get at him. He retreated to the back of the cell, bellowing for help, but there was no response. He quit yelling and eventually the creature seemed to lose interest in him and staggered out the door into the main station area._

_Francis stared around him in wide-eyed horror. He knew he needed to get the hell out of there, he didn't want any part of what was happening right now. He reached through the cell and dragged the cop's body closer, getting the keys to the cell out of his pocket and opening it. He grabbed the man's revolver and took the ammunition off his belt, reloading the revolver and pocketing the rest of the ammo. Cautiously, he crept from the cell area and into the main station. He found a break room with several infected cops staggering around. When they charged at him, clawing and trying to bite him, he shot one of them in the head and knocked the others back with a kick to the chest and a left roundhouse. The shooting in the head thing appeared to work well on these damned vampires, so he shot the other two in the head as well, finishing them. He found a rack full of shotguns and rifles, helping himself to a shotgun and a box of shells. He found a holster for the revolver and put it on, holstering the weapon._

_He worked his way through the station, disposing of the shambling infected creatures, both civilian and cops, as he found them. To his dismay, he did not find any other uninfected people alive in the whole building. He sat down at the front desk as he tried to decide what to do next. It was clear the whole city was going down with this epidemic, he had no idea what he should do or where he should go from here. Maybe try to get back together with his buddies from the bar, if they were still alive._

_As he contemplated the options, the main door opened and a young woman and elderly man dressed in an army uniform came in. They looked around at the gore in the lobby and slowly approached the front desk. They looked at Francis, not sure what to make of him. They weren't really expecting a giant, tattooed biker to be manning the front desk of the police station._

_"Relax, I'm a cop!" he said with a crooked grin. "Umm…undercover! Yeah, that's right. Can I help you folks?"_

_The old guy gave him a skeptical look. "Are you sure that's the story you want to stick with, son? You want to tell us what's really going on?" He glanced through the open door behind Francis, looking at the dead officers on the floor. He stiffened as he set his jaw and started to bring his rifle up._

_"Not so fast, old man. You and the girl set your weapons on the floor!" Francis pointed his shotgun at them. "Back away from them, put your hands on that wall and keep them glued to it", he growled at them._

_Bill cursed and put his rifle and pistol down, Zoey threw her pistol down too. Francis smiled grimly as he kicked the weapons away and approached them. Just then, a young guy dressed in a white shirt and red tie came through the door. Francis turned toward him, wondering who the hell else was going to show up to this little party. _

_Bill noticed that the giant of a man was distracted and decided this was his chance. He leapt at him, punching him as hard as he could in the jaw. It was like punching a brick wall, and about as effective, as the man simply turned to him in annoyance, plucking him off his feet by the front of his jacket. He balled up a giant fist, then glared into Bill's face and tossed him back to the ground, where he fell on his ass._

_"Knock it off, Grandpa. I have a no beatin' policy for the old and infirm, just don't push it", he said as he rubbed his jaw. The old man packed a wallop, his whole jaw felt numb. Good thing he had an iron chin. He turned back to the man who had just come in. "Get over with them", he gestured at the old man and girl. _

_After standing around for a few minutes, contemplating each other, Bill spoke, "Look, we're just trying to get to the evac zone, we don't want any trouble. Just let us walk out of here and you'll never see us again."_

_Francis frowned, thinking about it. "OK, on one condition."_

_"What's that?" Bill asked._

_"I'm comin' with you. Evacuation sounds good to me. After what I've seen here, the farther I can get away from this place, the better. It'll be just my goddamned luck that I'll be blamed for this shit." Francis replied, jerking his head toward the dead in the other rooms._

_"So you didn't kill those people in there?" Bill asked in surprise._

_"Didn't say I didn't do the killin', but they weren't people any more. I don't know what the hell is goin' on, but those vampires ain't people." Francis answered. "So is it a deal? We all stick together, try to make it to the evac zone? _

_The three strangers looked at each other, then nodded. Francis lowered the shotgun, scooping up the other weapons._

_"C'mon, there's ammo and more weapons back here. You can gear up and then we can get the hell outta here." Francis led them through the back rooms, littered with bodies, to the weapons._

_Bill looked around as he went. "You killed all of these?"_

_Francis glanced back at him, "Naw, the vampires killed some of 'em. I just killed the ones left stumbling around, the ones that tried to bite me. I probably only killed about 15 of 'em." _

_Bill nodded, it was still pretty impressive. Clearly the guy knew how to use the shotgun he wielded. He would just have to keep a careful eye on him, he just didn't trust the scruffy thug at all. He would particularly watch him around Zoey, he wasn't going to let that animal get to her. Although, the guy couldn't be all bad, he hadn't retaliated when Bill punched him, that was a point in his favor._

_They gathered together all the weapons and ammo they could carry and started out, looking for Mercy Hospital and the evac point._


	10. Dead Sure

They listlessly gathered around the little table to eat some noodles and canned tuna for dinner. Morale was low as they faced the prospect of having to terminate one of their own once she finished turning.

Bill glanced over to watch as she tossed feverishly on the floor, handcuffed to the wall. He knew the task would fall to him, he was trying to think of the best way to do it so that it would be less traumatic for his young friends. He wasn't sure how much longer he should wait, it already looked fairly hopeless. It would probably be best to just drag her outside in the brush and do it out there with his K-bar, that way they wouldn't have to hear it. He would wait until the others went to sleep and do it on his watch, that would probably be the least distressing way to handle it.

Francis decided he might as well continue his ritual of checking Doc's cuts and scrapes and putting fresh ointment on them. There was probably no point in doing it, but at least it felt like he was doing something helpful. And that's how he found it. As he rubbed ointment into the scrape on her back, his fingers ran across a large, hard mass under the skin, almost the size of a small orange. As he probed it, she began groaning, it was obviously painful to touch.

He called Bill over to check it out. After careful examination, Bill announced that he thought it might be an abscess. She could have gotten it from some debris driven deep under the skin when she slid across the rocks and gravel.

"Boil some water, Francis," he said, "we can try to draw it out with heat. If that doesn't work, we may have to lance it." They began to apply hot cloths to the abscess, which seemed to grow much larger, bulging on the surface of the skin. Bill began to press on it firmly, hoping to get it to burst.

Doc began to groan and then abruptly awoke. "Dammit, that really hurts!" she complained weakly. "What are…why am I handcuffed?! Get this shit off me!, she demanded angrily, yanking feebly at the restraints.

Francis glanced at Bill, who nodded and tossed the cuff keys to Francis. Bill continued to apply heated cloths to the abscess and pressure, as Francis did his best to hold her still. Finally, Bill decided they needed to lance it.

"Goddamnit, it hurts! Can't you at least inject some lidocaine? I know this looks like fun, but it's really fuckin' NOT!" Doc spat out, as she gritted her teeth to keep from screaming herself hoarse.

"Easy…easy. It'll be over..soon. OK?", Francis spoke haltingly, trying his best to be soothing. Soothing wasn't exactly his strong suit, so it came out awkwardly.

Bill injected some lidocaine, it would probably ease the pain of the incision, but he doubted it would do much for the deeper tissue involved in the abscess. He looked at Francis and said, "Hold her down, son. You might have to put your knee down on her to pin her down. Once it's open, I'll have to repeatedly squeeze it and it's gonna hurt like hell", he warned.

Francis looked at him like he was crazy, he figured a big guy like him could hold some woman down without any trouble. "Just go ahead and do it, old man! I'll take care of keepin' her still enough, don't worry about it!" he said with a grim look at the sharp pocketknife Bill was heating up in the boiling water.

Bill lanced through the bulging skin, and a flood of putrid-smelling pus and clumps of dead tissue erupted. Francis' face turned white, he'd never seen anything like it.

Doc's entire body trembled and writhed uncontrollably as Bill began to push and squeeze, trying to drain it. She groaned and uttered muffled curses at the intense pain. Francis couldn't believe it, but he was forced to put a knee and both hands on her to keep her still enough. She might be relatively small, but she was all muscle. When it was finally all finished, she was left with a raw hole nearly the size of a golf ball where the abscess had been. Bill cleaned it out with antiseptic and spread antibiotic ointment and taped some gauze over the whole thing.

Francis brought over some pain meds, which she gratefully took, before almost immediately falling deeply asleep, completely drained from the painful ordeal. Bill found the antibiotics they had scavenged from the barn and injected what he hoped was the right dosage for a person of her size.

As they cleaned up, Francis picked up the discarded handcuffs, handing them to Bill. "Does this mean she's not going to…you know, turn?" he asked quietly.

"Well, an abscess can give you a bad fever and make you sicker than a dog. Hell, it can kill you if it's not taken care of. They can go gangrenous and septic, I've seen that in 'Nam. If the fever goes down now, she's probably going to be ok", Bill answered. Feeling her forehead, he nodded, it seemed as if the fever was already subsiding.

Everyone seemed to relax then, the tension slowly seeping out of the little safe room. They set the watch shifts and turned in. Francis moved his bedding closer to Doc, that way he could keep an eye on her if she needed anything. He glanced at Zoey, playing with a deck of cards as she sat on watch, while Louis and Bill snored softly, already asleep. He lay back, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. He folded his arms behind his head and fell fast asleep.


	11. Dead Ends

AUTHOR' NOTE: I hope you all enjoy these last installments and thanks again for those of you who have sent kind words of encouragement!

As dawn broke, all the members of the little group were awake and busily getting their things together to continue the journey. Doc was one of the first to wake up, she even helped Bill make breakfast, quickly eating her share. She claimed to feel ok, just a little tired and weak. Bill inspected the abscess wound, packed it with antibiotic ointment and bandaged it. It looked ok, and didn't seem to be causing her that much pain, which was a good sign.

They started off from the safe room, following the overgrown trail. Soon they came to a fork in the trail, where they came to a halt.

"Now what?" asked Doc, "Do we split up and investigate each branch or stick together and pick one?"

Bill pondered the question for a moment before replying, "Let's split up and check out each trail, we'll go out for 15 minutes and then head back and meet here. Francis, you're with me. Louis and Zoey you're with Doc." Bill had no intention of letting Francis out of his sight this time, plus he felt Francis was worth two of the others in a fight, so the split made sense to him.

Francis frowned, this wasn't divided up to his satisfaction. He would rather go with Doc and keep an eye on her. He knew Bill could take care of himself pretty well, he wasn't so sure about her since she didn't seem that familiar with the special infected they had been running up against.

"Maybe I should go with Doc, you take Louis and Zoey", he suggested to Bill. Bill shook his head, not sure about that combination, since Francis and Doc both seemed prone to acting impulsively. "No, Francis, you're with me."

"That's fine, let's not waste any time arguing about it. After all, we'll only be separated for 30 minutes at most, right? Let's just do it", Doc pointed out impatiently.

So Francis and Bill headed out on the right hand trail. Francis dispatched the few common infected they encountered with his axe. Eventually the trail dead-ended in a little clearing containing an abandoned camp site with a collapsed tent. They found the bodies of the former occupants dragged into a decomposing pile nearby.

"You're tellin' me people camp for fun?" Francis asked in disbelief, eyeing the decaying corpses.

"Quit messing around out there and help me search the tent, Francis!" Bill demanded impatiently. They found some dehydrated food and water bottles, along with a Magnum and some ammo, which Francis immediately took for his own use. They stuffed the remaining items in their packs and headed back to the meeting point to find out what the others had discovered. They were not far from where the trails branched when they heard the staccato reports from Zoey's submachine gun. They quickly broke into a run and headed down the other trail.

Doc and the others had only gone a few minutes down their trail before they too came to a halt. Splitting the trail was a deep gully, far down below they could see a small stream. The bridge that once crossed over it was badly damaged, only one worn rope was still connected to the other bank, the rest dangled down into the gully. On the other side, just over a little rise, they could see a building.

"Okay, then, looks like a dead end for us", Zoey said, turning to head back to the meeting point.

"What? You're kidding, right? We can get over there." Doc replied.

Both Louis and Zoey turned and looked back at the badly damaged bridge, then back to Doc. "Are you freakin' kidding me? Have you looked at that rope and looked down to see how far you would end up falling? Trust me, this is, literally, a dead end." Zoey answered.

"Guys, this may be the only way out of this dump. There's a building over there. We can't just go back without knowing anything, we've got to go at least check it out. If you don't want to go over there, that's fine, I'll just go", Doc said, as she put her equipment down on the ground. Choosing her katana, she strapped it to her back.

"No, Doc. Really bad idea, we can't help you if you get in trouble over there. Come on, plus that rope looks like it could give out at any second, you're crazy to try to go over there!" Louis said in exasperation, looking nervously to Zoey.

"Too late, here I go…" Doc said, as she grasped the rope and began to traverse along the top of it, using a technique she had once been taught by a former commando.

"Doc! Get the fuck back here!" hissed Zoey. If Bill knew about this, he would kill them. One thing he had drilled into Louis and Zoey was never to split up, and here they were, doing exactly that.

Doc pulled herself across the rope and jumped down on the other side. She looked around briefly, gave the thumbs-up sign to Louis and Zoey and headed off toward the building, katana in hand.

Zoey and Louis stood on the other side, shifting around nervously. It had now been more than 5 minutes since Doc entered the building, and it seemed like 5 hours. They were beginning to wonder if they should go off and try to find Bill and Francis, when they heard a bestial roar, followed by a series of muffled pistol shots. It seemed to be coming from the building. They exchanged horrified glances, knowing what was about to happen.

They looked up to see Doc explode from the small doorway of the building in a sprint, then dodge back to a position beside the door. The massive pink mutation filled the doorway, struggling to force itself through. As it did, Doc was slicing it up with the katana. Enraged, the pink monstrosity beat its way through, tossing chunks of doorway aside. Reaching down, it tore a massive hunk of cement from the ground and heaved it at Doc.

Zoey tried to shoot at it with her submachine gun, but quickly realized she had as much chance at hitting Doc at that range as she did the massive beast. Louis didn't even bother firing the shotgun, it was well beyond the shotty's range. Doc sprinted into the partially wooded area between the bridge and building, dodging around and trying to change direction, as the tank pursued at a gallop. They could only watch as she desperately tried to land blows on the tank without being caught and crushed by it.

Francis and Bill ran along the trail as fast as they could, Bill's knee was screaming in pain and his limp was slowing him down. Francis hated running, his boots weren't made for it either. If there was anything worse suited to running than motorcycle boots, he didn't want to know about it. He plowed ahead with determination, Bill limping along behind him. Finally they spotted Zoey and Louis and skidded to a stop next to them.

Wordlessly, Zoey pointed with her gun across the ruined bridge at the scene unfolding before them. Bill's jaw dropped open, and the cigarette that had been clamped in his mouth throughout the run fell to the ground from his suddenly nerveless lips. Francis started bellowing curses, throwing his pack to the ground. They could see Doc, on the other side, single-handedly trying to fight off a tank. Bill dropped to a knee and fired a burst from the M16, it was fairly hopeless, he couldn't even tell whether he was hitting the thing or not, from this distance.

As they watched, Doc jumped, dodged, dived, somersaulted and did martial arts rolls around the tank as she tried desperately to avoid being crushed. It all looked like some terrible dance between Doc and the enormous zombie. She was able to land occasional blows and seemed to be trying to disable its legs. The tank flailed at her, but she moved and jumped around it rapidly and it was having trouble connecting. It roared in frustration, pounding its massive fists into the ground, they could feel the ground shaking even from where they stood. Finally, the tank connected with a meaty fist, and she was flung far across the clearing. She landed in a backward roll and after several rotations managed to pop back to her feet. The tank galloped toward her, stopping to grab a giant boulder and fling it at her. She darted in, hacking with the katana at its exposed abdomen until the beast managed to bat her aside, the katana still embedded in its flesh. She landed in a heap, but quickly staggered back up and limped toward the tank. Reaching behind her, she drew her machete and tomahawk, slowly swinging them as she returned back to the attack. The tank was slowing, its injuries were beginning to take their toll, but she had slowed down a lot too. Too slow, in Bill's estimation, as he watched the tank slap her hard into a tree trunk in response to a machete blow. She rolled behind the tree, using it as cover as she wearily dragged herself back to her feet.

Francis had been pacing back and forth, he couldn't stand by and watch any more. He looked at the bridge with its worn rope, then down into the gully. He fricken' HATED heights. He grabbed onto the rope as he prepared to cross.

Bill stopped him, saying "Son, it'll be all over before you can get across there. I'm sorry, but this isn't going to end well, no sense in losing you too."

"Fuck, Bill", he replied angrily, "You don't know that! I have to at least try, I can't stand here and do nothin'!" He tightened the strap holding the AA12 securely to his back and started to traverse the rope. Keeping his eyes on the rope above, trying not to think about how badly worn the rope was, he crossed his legs over it and began to slide himself across. Bill shook his head in irritation. He couldn't restrain the big man physically, he just hoped the rope would hold and the shotgun would be enough for Francis to finish the tank off once it had finished with Doc.

When the tank came around the tree to get at her, she sunk the tomahawk into its ugly face. It roared in pain, tomahawk firmly embedded between its eyes, flailing around blindly. Bill couldn't believe what he saw next. Doc darted behind the behemoth and jumped to its back, quickly chopping the machete down toward its head as hard as she could. The beast tried to grab her, but only managed to smash her off its back, as it began to slump backwards with the machete firmly lodged in its head. Doc emerged slowly, crawling from the brush she had been thrown in on her hands and knees, staggered back to her feet and reached under her sweatshirt and took out her Beretta. She emptied an entire clip of hollow points directly into its face at nearly point blank range. It collapsed in a heap, dead.

Francis finally made it to the other side, jumped from the rope and looked frantically around for the tank. With stunned disbelief he watched as Doc finished it off with her little pistol. He went from frantic concern to extreme anger almost instantly. He strode quickly up to her as she collapsed, panting in exhaustion, next to the pink mountain of flesh. He grabbed her shoulders, lifting her clean off her feet, and began to shake her firmly, as if he were scolding a misbehaving puppy.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" he bellowed, her face inches from his, his brown eyes flashing with fury. She stared at him in confusion and shock, followed by anger. With a quick wedging block she broke his grip on her, then she shoved him hard in the chest with both hands, causing him to stagger backwards.

"What the hell is your problem? We were told to check out the trail…and that's what I was doing!" she answered, giving him an icy glare as she gasped for breath, shaking with exhaustion as the adrenaline rush faded. She hadn't been feeling her best this morning, and after this little romp with the tank it was all she could do to even stand. She was in no mood for scoldings from anyone.

"What's my problem? I'll tell you what my fuckin' problem is. What the FUCK are you doing over here all alone? Are you a slow fuckin' learner?! Let me say it real slow for you, so even you can understand" he fumed at her. "You. Don't. Go. Anywhere. Alone. Ever! Got it?!" he growled in his most menacing tone, advancing to tower over her, arms folded across his chest.

She stared him down angrily, clamped her jaw shut and turned her back on him to head back toward the bridge. Furious, he grabbed her shoulder to spin her around, he wasn't finished with this little discussion. She seized his hand, twisting it and forcing it backward toward his wrist in a sharp jerk and he found himself kneeling on the ground, his wrist radiating pain at the wristlock she was applying.

"Hands off!", she said to him tightly as she bent over him, "Before you get hurt, or that tank isn't the only thing I'm gonna fuck up today!" She twisted and pushed his wrist toward him, knocking him sprawling on his ass. The rest of the group watched this exchange with utter astonishment from across the bridge.

She turned and began to limp slowly back to the bridge. Francis picked himself up, fuming. He stalked past her without a word and stood near the bridge, red-faced with anger and embarrassment. She ignored him as she spoke to the others, leaning heavily against a bridge support, "The building over there goes into a train station. There're tracks near the lower level. I saw signs pointing down the tracks to a saferoom, but I don't know how far away it might be. It looks like the military was holed up in there for a while, so there might be food and ammo stashed in there somewhere. I saw some climbing gear and ropes, we can use those to help bring everybody over here safely. I'll go get it, assuming this is the trail we want to follow."

Bill nodded, adding "Ours was a dead end, so this is the one we want."

She turned and started limping back toward the building. Francis began to follow her. She turned and frowned at him, waving him off. "Stay! I don't want you!"

Francis, irritated at being spoken to like a dog on top of everything else, continued to follow her. "Guess you still don't get it. You're not going over there by yourself, I'm coming whether you want me or not."

Her eyes practically burned a hole in him, then she turned back to the building. As she limped away, she said, "You're the one who doesn't get it. When I say stay, you should stay." With that she whirled around at him, flicking her arm forward. Her knife buried itself into a tree to the left of him with a loud thump.

Smiling grimly, he reached behind him and plucked it out. Walking up to her, he offered it to her hilt first. "Think you dropped somethin'" he said casually.

She snatched it from him and in one fluid movement flung it down, burying it in the dirt next to his feet. She headed back toward the building, seething as she darted furious glances at him.

Francis just continued trailing behind her with his jaw clenched. She was impossible, he thought. Go to the trouble of rescuing and healing her, and she did her best to throw it all away. Keeping her in one piece was going to be a friggin' full-time job, he could see that now. Well, somebody else could take that on, he was done with it.

Bill observed all of this unhappily. What the hell was wrong with those two idiots, anyway? Didn't they have enough zombies to play with that they didn't need to be fighting with each other? He shook his head in disgust.

Francis' head was spinning, the adrenaline buzz was fading and his emotions were in complete turmoil. He was wrestling with them, trying to sort them out, completely and utterly confused. Anger, surprise, embarrassment, fear, joy and indignation were all swirling around in a turbulent maelstrom. He was barely used to having emotions, let alone this many. He was really out of his depth here. He tried to cool his anger and clear his head, as he slowly followed Doc to the building. He entered through the demolished doorway, so preoccupied he didn't notice that she had stopped in front of him to let her eyes adjust to the dark. He walked straight into her, knocking her flat.

"What in the HELL is your malfunction today?" she said in disgust, as she wearily crawled back to kneel on the floor.

He stepped closer, reached down and grabbed her by the shoulders, gripping her tightly as he lifted her up to her feet. She stiffened in his grip, clearly expecting him to shake her again. They glared at each other angrily for a moment, suddenly Francis pulled her against him, leaned over and kissed her hard. At first she seemed shocked, completely stunned. He was almost as shocked as she was, he was completely confused and part of him wondered what the hell he was doing, trying to remind him that he couldn't stand her. But then she responded, kissing him back and the rest of him decided to just go with it. Their kiss deepened, his hands running down her back and sides, as she held his waist. He picked her up and set her on a nearby countertop, bringing her closer to his height, pressing himself against her as they continued kissing. They finally broke apart, each gasping at the intensity of the kiss. She was blushing deeply, and he was having his own problems with the physical reaction to their encounter.

"Ummm…that was…wow…didn't see that coming…" she finally gasped as she tried to calm her pounding heart. He smiled, grinning widely above her as it finally dawned on him why he'd been so upset with her.

"We better get back out there before Bill has an aneurysm", he said, a little flustered, as he quickly moved away to look for the equipment they needed and to cool himself a bit. She shook her head, giving him a puzzled look as she tried to remember which room had the stuff they needed. They split up briefly, going into separate rooms next to each other.

She didn't see the infected former soldier lurking in the dark corner of the room she entered. She was sweeping the floor with the flashlight on the Eagle, searching for the gear, when it barreled into her, knocking her to the floor and straddling her as it clutched at her throat and tried to bite her. She brought the Eagle to bear on the zombie and pressed the trigger, only to hear a firm click. She dropped it and reached for the Beretta, then remembered that it was also empty. She struggled to draw her knife, one of the few weapons she still had on her, most of her stuff was still embedded in the tank outside. "Shit! Help!" she yelped, as she fended off the impossibly strong creature on top of her. The thing had grabbed her throat and was choking her when a huge boot kicked it off and the shotgun roared. Francis helped her up and made sure she was ok.

"Damn", she said, "I better pull my head out and focus. I totally forgot I'm practically unarmed!"

Francis chuckled and grinned, "Little distracted, are we?" She blushed again, shaking her head in a futile attempt to clear it.

They found a harness and some lines and brought it back to the bridge. Bill noticed that Francis and Doc seemed to be talking again and seemed to have managed to put the past friction behind them. Francis tried to throw the harness across, but it was too far and kept getting caught up in the overhanging trees. It was decided that Doc would traverse back across the bridge with the harness and rope, with lines extending to each side they could then shuttle everyone across. Bill watched as Doc crossed, he hadn't seen anyone do it that way since spec ops training. Bill crossed next, copying Doc's style, followed by Louis and Zoey, crossing underneath the rope as Francis had. Last over, Doc crossed with the large pack and other items she'd left behind earlier.

They all gathered near the tank, as Doc attempted to reclaim her weapons. Bill stared at the gigantic heap of flesh. If he hadn't seen it for himself, he never would have believed it possible that a single person could kill that, basically with melee weapons, and walk away from it. She actually looked pretty good for somebody who had gone five rounds with a tank, he had to hand it to her, since he doubted he could have done as much.

He nodded at the tank and said, "Bravo, young lady. Well done. But we WILL have a long talk about what you were doing over here all by yourself", he warned her.

"Wooo", squealed Louis, "Look at the size of this thing! I can't believe you killed it!"

Doc looked up from trying to dislodge her katana and waved dismissively at the tank, saying, "That's the trouble with you men, always overly impressed with size. You know the old saying, the bigger they are…"

Giving a mischievous grin, she looked up at them and winked, "Just remember, gentlemen, it ain't the size that matters, it's how you use it!"

Bill gave a surprised bark of laughter, while Francis let out a big bellowing laugh, and Zoey snickered. Louis looked around, confused about what they were all laughing about, until Zoey whispered in his ear and he giggled in embarrassment.

In her best Yoda impersonation, Doc went on, laughing, "Judge me by my size, do you?...And well you should not!" She looked pointedly at Francis, grinning.

Bill was the only one who didn't really get the movie reference, as the others chuckled over it. Bill didn't mind, it was great to see how good morale was, considering the tank encounter. He looked at Doc, there was more to that lady than met the eye for sure. How many people could fight a tank single-handedly and then walk away cracking jokes about it? She certainly knew how to lighten the mood, as well as kick some serious zombie ass.

Doc finally admitted defeat in trying to retrieve her tomahawk and machete, asking Francis for a hand. He was able to wrench them out, though even he was surprised at how solidly they were stuck in there.

"You really stuck it to the sucker", he said in admiration, as he strained to yank the machete out.

Doc shrugged, explaining, "Major adrenaline rush, plus a few added ounces of desperation. I wasn't sure the damned thing would ever go down."

Bill retrieved her throwing knife from the ground. He approached her, tossing it end over end thoughtfully, before handing it over to her. "Forgetting something?" he asked, looking intently at her.

"Nope, not lately, Bill", she answered, wondering what he was getting at, as she wiped it and returned it to its sheath. Bill just shook his head and walked off toward the building.


	12. Friendly Fire

They searched the building carefully, disposing of a few infected and turning up some MREs, ammo and several new weapons. Zoey was able to exchange her submachine gun for a nice SCAR assault rifle, and Louis found a combat shotgun. Bill scored some ammo for his M16 and they found plenty of shotgun shells. They grabbed as much as they could carry and stuffed it in their packs.

They walked along the tracks, following a sign with an arrow and a saferoom painted on it. It was fairly quiet, they came across a few lone infected stumbling around, which Francis took care of quietly with his axe. Doc was totally beat, just hanging back in case she was needed and letting Francis do his thing. They were approaching another building, which looked like it should lead them down to another set of tracks. To get there they needed to pass under another set of rails set on an overpass.

It looked like a straight shot to the saferoom without any trouble, but as they emerged from the overpass, they heard Louis scream behind them. They looked back to see him dangling high in the air, being drawn toward a smoker high up on the overpass.

Zoey and Bill tried to shoot it, but they couldn't get a good angle on it. Francis ran under the overpass and blasted shots at the tongue, severing it. Louis dropped heavily to the ground as all hell broke loose.

A screaming horde attacked the little group, streaming at them from several directions. Francis was trying to help Louis up when suddenly a hideous, cackling creature leapt on top of him, scratching and jerking him away from the others. Doc darted after him to knock the zombie off and kill it, slicing her way through the horde as she went. They turned back to help Louis, only to see a hunter leap onto him in the middle of a horde. Louis started shrieking and Zoey, seeing the horde surrounding him began firing into it, not realizing Doc and Francis were in there too. Doc shouted in pain as she was shot in the back of the shoulder, falling writhing to the ground.

"Hold yer fire, hold yer fire!" Francis bellowed. Zoey quickly refocused her fire on the remaining infected, as Francis hauled Doc back to her feet. Doc and Francis cut their way free from the horde and dragged a badly bleeding Louis back to the group. Doc could only use her right arm, but she could still wield the katana one handed. They finally managed to finish off the horde and mop up the straggling infected. Francis was helping Louis over one shoulder and dragging Doc by her good arm on the other side, as she struggled to stagger along. She felt suddenly really exhausted, she wasn't sure what was going on, she felt like she could barely keep her feet under her as Francis dragged her along. It was like hitting the wall in a marathon, except it everything was getting worse much faster.

Bill was in the lead, cautiously going to the safe-room, while Zoey brought up the rear. Bill heard a curious shuffling in the safe-room, so he signaled the others to halt, while he checked it out. Peering around the corner, he saw a charger, just as it turned to charge through the doorway. Training the M16 on it, he fired a long burst and the charger dropped, sliding to his feet. He kicked the thing aside as he gestured for everyone to get in the safe-room.

They entered what was once an industrial kitchen with an attached bathroom and small pantry room. Francis propped Louis and Doc against the tiled wall, while he and Bill started digging through the packs for the med supplies. Zoey started making room and cleaning an area where they could work on patching up the injured. Louis clutched his bleeding chest, he started to unbutton his shirt to assess the damages. He heard a soft thud and looked over to see that Doc had slid down the wall and was lying limp on the floor. The wall where she had been sitting was thickly smeared with a coating of wet blood.

"Guys, help, help!" Louis shouted in alarm, as he scrambled over to her.

Francis bolted over, and seeing the wall, began to tend to Doc, who now lay in a spreading pool of blood. "Bill, we gotta do this now…" he replied tensely. Bill came over and had a quick look.

"Yeah, I know, I know. We got a little time yet, I think it looks worse than it is", Bill said, as he quickly started up the stove burner to heat water.

Francis stripped off her blood-soaked sweatshirt and laid her face down on the steel table, he used his knife to cut the t-shirt open and rip it down to expose the bullet holes. He could see she had gotten hit with a 3 shot burst, 2 in the back of the shoulder and one in back of the upper arm. Blood was pulsing heavily from one of the shoulder wounds, so Bill had Francis put heavy pressure on it with the torn shirt.

Bill quickly sterilized the instruments he needed in the burner flame and bent over to look at the wounds more carefully. As soon as the pressure was removed, blood continued to pulse thickly from one of the bullet holes and Bill knew he was dealing with a large severed blood vessel. He probed into that wound to try to locate the bullet, and Doc startled awake with a gasp.

"Hey, hang in there, we're takin' the bullets out", Francis informed her quietly, as he tried to gently hold her still.

"Damn, this sucks. I should get some sort of frequent customer discount for this shit", she said weakly, taking a sharp breath and squirming as Bill pushed the forceps deeper to retrieve the bullet. He could feel the bullet, using the forceps he was able to ease it out. He removed the bullet, but blood started to spray rapidly from the wound, spattering over him and Francis.

"Shit! Pressure, Francis, now!" he yelled. Francis slapped the shirt back on it, pressing hard. She groaned as he pushed down.

"I'm gonna have to try cauterizing it, there's no way I can repair it. This is really going to hurt like a sonofabitch, sorry", he said as he heated the forceps to red hot over the burner. He looked at Francis, catching his eye and giving him a grim look, he told him, "Hold her as still as you can, I have to leave it on long enough."

Bill plunged the red hot forceps deep into the spurting wound. Doc cried out in agony, struggling against Francis' iron grip, then passed out cold, as Bill moved the forceps around. The acrid smell of the burning flesh made Francis feel like his knees might buckle, damn good thing she passed out, because he was feeling lightheaded and needed to grip the table for a minute. He shook his head, wiped the sweat off and tried breathing through his mouth instead, that helped a bit. When Bill withdrew the forceps, the blood no longer sprayed from the wound, although it was still bleeding heavily. He heated the forceps again and pushed them once more into the bullet hole, until the bleeding slowed. He removed the other bullet that was in the shoulder with much less trouble. He tried to get the third bullet out, but it seemed to be lodged in the bone, he couldn't grip it hard enough to pull it out. He finally gave up, saying to Francis, "That one's going to have to stay as a souvenir." He cleaned the wounds up, put in some stitches and Francis put antibiotic ointment on and bandaged them.

Zoey set up some bedding on the floor and he carried her over there and carefully laid her down and covered her up. He couldn't help but notice the deep bruises, scratches and other injuries that she had picked up from her encounter with the tank. Shaking his head, he went to get some water to clean her up and dress the new wounds.

Louis was helped to the table to have his hunter wounds patched up. He trembled nervously, after hearing Doc's treatment he wasn't anxious for more of the same. His cuts had bled heavily, but none of them were dangerously deep. Bill stitched him up in a few spots and dressed the wounds. Louis was relieved, it wasn't as bad as he initially thought it was. Sighing, he redressed himself and went to lie down for a while.

Zoey quietly got the evening meal together as Bill and Louis rested and Francis tended to Doc. She felt so useless after having taken out Doc with friendly fire. Well, at least she could be counted on to heat up some MREs they scavenged, she thought glumly to herself. Zoey couldn't help but think of herself as the most useless member of the group. She was a decent shot and could hold her own in a zombie fight, but strength and skill-wise she felt like the low man on the totem pole. She sighed, she needed to get her act together before the rest of them decided she was nothing but a liability.

The group got together and ate their meal quietly, their demeanor a bit depressed after their last encounter with the horde. Doc slept through it, so Francis saved some food aside for her, and took the first watch shift, in case she woke up. Half way through his shift, she stirred and sat up with a groan.

"Well", she said to him when he asked how she was feeling, "All things considered, things are looking up. At least I'm not handcuffed to anything for a change." He chuckled and brought over food and water for her. After eating, Francis insisted on going over all the various wounds with her and putting new ointment on them. He checked out the abscess, still pretty ugly looking and missing its bandage, he packed it with ointment and bandaged it back up. He gave her another shot of antibiotic and then lay down next to her, propped up on an elbow to rub ointment into her scrapes. He finished with the ointment and put it away.

"There, all done." He started to push himself up.

She turned toward him, propped up with her good arm. "Really? Are you sure?" Her lips turned up in a small smile as she looked at him.

He paused and grinned back at her. "Yep, think so. You're pretty messed up, darlin'. Think you should maybe rest some more."

"This? It's not that bad. Definitely on my low end of messed up. Anyway, I'm not tired just now, but if you are…" She reached out and put her hand on his arm, it felt like liquid fire to him.

He didn't really need any more encouragement than that, he'd been thinking of little else as he rubbed her soft skin. He ran his hands gently down her sides and kissed her softly as she pressed herself against him. He caressed her soft skin, running his hands along her stomach, pulling the blanket out of his way. She gasped softly, as he slid his hands higher and began to kiss her deeply.

Bill observed all of this quietly from across the room, as he lay on his bedding, unable to sleep. It was all beginning to make sense now, and it concerned him. Two of the most volatile people in the group, deciding to start up a relationship in the middle of a goddamned apocalypse. Fucking fantastic. Sighing, he supposed it was better than having them at each other's throats. Having seen quite enough, he coughed and sat up, pretending that he just woke up for his shift.

Francis practically vaulted to his feet, his face reddening. Doc was blushing as she quickly pulled the blanket back up. Bill stifled a grin, they looked like a couple of guilty teenagers caught in the act. Standing up, he gave Francis a narrowed gaze as he lit a cigarette. Francis frowned back at him, before setting up his bedding against the wall and throwing himself down on it. Bill, amused, watched him toss and turn fitfully for quite a while before he finally began snoring softly. Bill glanced over at Doc, she was still awake, staring at the ceiling. She glanced over at Bill and gave a wry smile as she thought about his bad timing, before turning over to drift off to sleep. Smiling, Bill just shook his head, thinking about what a very odd couple they made.


	13. A Shot to the Heart

Author's Note: Thank you once more to all who have been kind enough to comment on the story and offer encouragement, it is very much appreciated! I hope you enjoy the latest installments, please do let me know what you think.

The next morning Bill woke early with a plan. He helped Louis get breakfast together and woke Zoey and Francis. He explained that he had an early morning side trip planned in order to scavenge for ammo and food in the nearby buildings.

"Louis and Zoey, you come with me", he told them. "Francis, you stay here with Doc, she's probably going to need some help this morning."

Louis and Zoey looked at Bill with puzzled expressions. Bill had often gone on these scavenging trips, but he always brought Francis with him, if he didn't bring all of them. Bill didn't bother to explain his choice, so they just shrugged and got their gear together.

Francis looked puzzled for a moment, then he looked at Bill, his eyes narrowing. Was he doing what he thought he was doing? Bill just looked back at him innocently, then led the others out the door, saying over his shoulder, "I expect we'll be gone for about an hour…"

Francis went straight over to where Doc was sleeping and lay down next to her, he leaned over and kissed her, trailing his fingers down her side. She sleepily kissed him back, finally waking up as he began kissing her neck. She laughed as she twisted away, "Do you have any idea how much that tickles? It's like being gnawed on by a rabid caterpillar!"

He gave her a big grin, "Guess who took the kids out for an hour? We've got the place to ourselves, can you think of anything you'd like to do?" He laid his big hand on her waist, his eyes twinkling.

She gave him a mischievous grin, "Sure, maybe have some coffee, read the paper?" He returned a sad look, pretending to be hurt by that remark. She slapped him on the arm and laughed, "Mister, I have no idea why you're still wearing clothes!" He pulled his shirt off and started unbuckling his pants, as she carefully stripped off her clothing under the blanket. She eyed his muscular body appreciatively, he did not disappoint. He finished removing his clothes and slowly pulled the blanket off her, he wasn't disappointed either.

They came together with a fierce intensity, and for the next hour forgot all about the apocalypse, zombies and their missing friends and family. Their hour seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye.

Finally, she checked her watch, realizing the others would be back any minute. Giving him one last kiss she got up and headed off to the bathroom to wash up and get dressed. Francis lounged on the floor, just relaxing and in no hurry to get up. Not long after, she heard the safe-room door open as the others came back in. She quickly dressed and went out, fervently hoping Francis had gotten dressed, or the cat would definitely be out of the bag.

Nope, no such luck. Francis lay on her bedding, naked and asleep. Not completely exposed, thanks to the blankets partially flung over him, but as near to it as made no difference. Bill just chuckled, but Zoey and Louis stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment, until they saw Doc, her face beet red, standing there.

"So…" she said, desperately trying to pretend there was not a giant naked man lying on the floor at her feet, "Did you find anything good?"

Zoey grinned widely at her, "Nope, looks like you did though…" Doc blushed an even deeper shade of red, she'd really walked right into that one. Fortunately for her, Louis was speechless, just staring at the sight of the sleeping giant, massive muscles everywhere. None of them had ever seen him completely naked, so it was an eyeful.

Bill just shook his head, laughing, then walked over to Francis, kicking his foot lightly to wake him, "Hey, sleeping beauty, get up and get dressed."

Francis, awoke groggily, practically jumping up when he saw the others staring down at him. But then he just gave them all a big, leering grin as he got up, pulling the blanket around his waist, and swaggered off to the bathroom to get dressed. He seemed completely impervious to embarrassment about the situation. Doc couldn't help it, she just started chuckling as she packed up her gear, so much for being discrete.

Francis emerged from the bathroom, dressed and beaming a huge smile, which the others studiously ignored. Doc ate a quick breakfast as Francis tended to her gunshot wounds, which had been bleeding a bit, as well as the other injuries. She shook her head in disgust as she assessed the damages, she was pretty messed up, and this would prevent her from doing much of anything useful. She couldn't use her bow, Eagle, or even the shotty, really, since she could barely even lift her left arm. She could still use the katana a little bit, one handed. She grabbed some vetwrap out of her pack and wrapped the blisters on her hand so that she could at least wield the sword. She grabbed her old ripped t-shirt and ripped it up to make a sling for her left arm. The other problem was that she had twisted her left knee and right ankle in the tank battle, they were still painful, causing her to limp. She wrapped them in more vetwrap, it helped a little bit.

Bill watched her taping and wrapping, then observed as she tested out her ability to use the katana, he saw winces of pain flicker across her face. As they got ready to leave the safe-room he suggested that she stay back with Francis on point, but she shook her head. "No, Bill. Every time we've worked it that way we've gotten our asses kicked", she protested. "I know I'm in rough shape, but I can still scout. I'll signal to Francis, he can deal with the occasional zombie, and I'm not helpless with my katana."

Bill crooked his finger at her and Francis, signaling them to talk with him privately in the little pantry. Turning, he frowned at them both, as he said, "Look, I don't care what you two are up to when we're in the safe-room. But when we step out the door, that's where it ends. I expect both of you to be on your game, I don't want any screw-ups because you people are mooning around playing grab-ass. Are we clear?"

Francis snorted, "Old man, just mind your own business. Nothin' has changed as far as that goes."

Doc stuck her good hand on her hip and frowned at him, "Yeah, Bill. I'm a little offended actually. We're adults, not a couple of love-struck teens. We got it out of our system and we're good to go. Right?" she said as she looked up at Francis.

"Absolutely", he grinned as he reached over and slapped her lightly on the ass.

She rolled her eyes, " Not helping…you're incorrigible. Seriously." Bill just heaved a sigh of disgust and left the room.

Doc began to follow him, but Francis held her back. She looked up at him as he hugged her to him.

"You're gonna be super careful out there, right? No more hero stuff, takin' on the vampires alone, OK?" he said softly.

She smiled up at him. "Don't worry, I'll let you in on a little secret of mine", she leaned in next to his ear and whispered, "I'm invincible!"

He pulled away and frowned at her. "I'm serious! No more fooling around with the damn vampires by yourself. We stick together."

She just grinned. "I am serious. I've been declared dead several times in my life so far and guess what? Still here. Let's face facts, I'm just not that damn easy to kill. I figure I've got a few more near-deaths before I run out of lives and have to cash my chips in. So you're probably stuck with me for a little while yet", she said as she pulled his head down for a kiss.

Francis kissed her back, pressing her to him. He couldn't help thinking that maybe her math was off. She probably should be counting the punch he gave her to the head when they first met as a near death event. His brow furrowed in worry, he had a bad feeling he just couldn't shake after thinking about that. He was startled from his thoughts by Bill.

"Quit fooling around in there, and let's go! Do I have to throw cold water on you two?" he yelled at them as he banged the wall with his fist. Sheepishly, they emerged and joined the others.


	14. Dead Loss

They left the safe-room, heading down the trail for a building they could see in the distance. Doc and Francis were able to take care of the few scattered infected stumbling near their route. Eventually they made their way near the building, the entrance below them near the tracks. They jumped to the top of a train car, then climbed down the side of the car to the platform and entered the station. As they allowed their eyes to adjust to the dim interior, they could hear a faint wailing.

"What the hell is that?" Doc asked Francis in a whisper.

"Dunno, could be a witch", he answered in his low, guttural whisper.

"And I repeat, what. the hell. is that?" she whispered back slowly. He just gave her a curious look, guess she hadn't run into one of those yet. Or didn't remember it, if she had.

"It's a bitch zombie with long, razor sharp claws. If you disturb her, she'll come at you and rip you a new one. She can kill really quickly, too", Francis explained quietly. "Usually, we just try to avoid them, go the long way around." He crept forward carefully, trying to figure out where the witch was located. Sound echoed within the large, empty building and it was impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from.

They carefully crossed the room and descended some stairs as the wailing grew louder. There was a ground level window there, the glass smashed out of it, so Doc slowly and carefully stuck her head out, trying to spot the source of the wailing.

Unfortunately, the witch was sitting just out of sight below the window. It rose up screaming and lunged for Doc, who leapt from the window to make a run for it. The witch, red eyes blazing, chased her, with Francis hot on her heels firing the shotgun as he ran. Doc was cornered, so she whirled around and struck the witch with her katana, attempting to decapitate her. After several strikes, and with the aid of Francis, the witch lay dead at their feet.

"That is one nasty bitch of a zombie", Doc panted, as she cleaned her blade off.

"You OK?" Francis asked, frowning with concern.

"Yeah, fine. I think she only got a couple of small scratches on me", she replied. Her right arm was bleeding, so Francis got out the med kit and cleaned and wrapped it.

They continued down the tracks and eventually came to a small passenger train station and searched inside briefly. They found some med supplies and ammo in a side room, but that was it. They went around the little station and into an old house built right next to the tracks. Inside they found benches in one room, probably for train travelers. Upstairs they discovered a pipe bomb and a sniper rifle, which Louis decided to take, throwing the combat shotty over his shoulder. They looked out of the upper window and down the tracks. It looked like they would need to follow the tracks across a long trestle bridge to get to the other side.

Just as they were deciding the best way to get down to the tracks below, hordes of zombies began to pour into the building and across the bridge, as if responding to some unheard dinner bell. Their escape route was being overrun. Bill fired his M16 down the stairs, keeping the horde entering the house at bay, while the rest of the group had climbed out of the second story window onto a tiny roof to fire upon the zombies flooding in toward them.

Thinking quickly, Bill grabbed the pipe bomb, armed it and threw it to the side of the house, in an attempt to clear some space so they could jump down and make a run for it across the bridge. The zombies were all running to the pipe bomb as the little group leapt off the roof and bolted onto the bridge. Bill was the last on the roof, as he got ready to leap he was grabbed by a smoker that had gotten into the building behind them. He shouted in surprise, and Louis was able to pick off the smoker with the sniper rifle, allowing Bill to jump down. This delay proved costly though, as the pipe bomb had detonated and was no longer attracting the massive horde that swarmed down on them.

It looked like hell had been ripped open and disgorged all of its denizens, as waves and waves of zombies poured towards them from both sides of the bridge. They stuck together and battled their way slowly across toward the other side. As they neared the other end of the bridge, they could see that a caboose sat on the tracks, converted to a safe-room.

"Come on, people, safe-room!" Bill shouted in encouragement. They were nearly up to it when it all went to hell in a hand basket. A cackling jockey zombie jumped from the horde onto Francis' back, yanking him from the group and into the horde as it slashed at his head. Doc started to slice her way through to him, with Bill behind her firing the M16, when a hunter pounced Bill. Doc turned and slashed the hunter away from him and helped Bill up, but in that short time, Francis had been dragged into a grotesquely swollen zombie, which vomited something all over him. The horde howled and shrieked as it redirected its fury at Francis, and he was dragged down to the ground and out of sight under a writhing pile of savage undead.

Doc could hear him howling in pain as she frantically cut zombies down trying to get to him. She managed to break her way through and sliced into the horde tearing at him, while Bill kept them off her with the M16 as she tried to haul him to his feet. Suddenly, a charger thundered out from the horde, it rushed past Bill, knocking him flat and barreled into Doc as she bent down to haul Francis to his feet. Plowing straight into her, it tore her grip from Francis as it carried her across the tracks and plunged off the bridge, taking her with it. Just like that, she was gone.

Bill and Francis could only stare in horror and disbelief, before they were forced to defend themselves from the remains of the horde. Francis fought like he was possessed, smashing through them with his axe, his shotgun forgotten. Finally, there were no more zombies left to kill. They all gathered at the spot where the charger had driven Doc off the bridge, looking down mournfully. They could hear water down there, but couldn't really tell how far away it might be due to waning light and the mist.

Francis was stunned, he felt crushed. If he could swim, he would have jumped after her. He thought about doing it anyway. They had to physically drag him away, his arms over Bill and Louis' shoulders, as he reluctantly stumbled along with them into the safe-room. He collapsed to sit on the floor, as the others sat numbly. Doc may have been dead last to join their group, but they had gotten quickly attached to her and were deeply saddened by her death.

Nobody felt like eating, they just dumped their bedding on the floor and collapsed. Bill went to sit with Francis for a while, but the big man just sat where he had dropped, arms over his head, not saying a word. Bill got out the antibiotic ointment and applied it to Francis' wounds, then covered him up with some blankets. He uttered a heavy sigh as he briefly clasped Francis' shoulder before going to his own bedding nearby. In spite of his weariness, he couldn't sleep, so he kept a silent vigil over the others as the night dragged along.

Francis eventually collapsed down on the cold floor of the caboose, numb and paralyzed with grief. It was all his fault. She was trying to help him when it happened, he shouldn't have let himself get dragged away from the others like that. Besides that, he was convinced the only reason she had to die was because she became involved with him. He was cursed and he should have known this would happen. Whenever he really cared for somebody, it seemed like it wasn't long before they were ripped away from him, one way or another. He could still feel her hand being torn out of his own, when she was taken. Having anything to do with him was the fucking kiss of death, how many times did he have to have this happen before he learned? Things worked better for everybody when he stayed detached. He swore to himself that he would never again allow himself to get attached like that. Never let anyone close enough to strike. These thoughts ran over and over through his aching head during the dark hours of the night.

The next morning, Louis and Zoey scrounged some granola bars from the packs, spread peanut butter on them and passed them out with water bottles to the others. Francis just stared silently ahead of him, ignoring everything completely. Bill tried to talk with him or rouse him, without success. He'd seen this before, a tragic death in the field and close friends of the lost would sometimes just shut down completely. He tried everything to get him to respond, even screaming at him in exasperation, but the fierce, rage-filled, insane stare he got back scared the hell out of him. He backed off, he didn't want Francis to snap in the tiny car, it would not end well for anybody. Shaking his head, he joined Zoey and Louis, talking with them softly as they all watched and waited for Francis to recover and come back to them.

They rested that day, with Bill trying repeatedly throughout the day to get Francis to talk, eat, move, anything. He just sat there, staring as if his brain had completely checked out. He eventually slumped over onto the floor and seemed to fall asleep, but his sleep was troubled and he tossed and moaned fitfully. The next day, Bill woke to find Francis in the same spot, staring at the wall again. He made some coffee for them both and sat down next to him, offering him some. Francis didn't even look at him, so he set the coffee down next to him.

Exasperated, Bill started talking to him again. "Do you think this is what she would want for you? To give up, like this? Doesn't her sacrifice mean anything to you at all? I know she would want you to pick yourself up and live your life, not sit around feeling sorry for yourself. Pull yourself together, man. You owe it to her to move on. Can't you even see that?! You owe it!" Bill said fiercely to him, shaking him by the shoulder.

Francis turned to look at him, his eyes and face looked completely blank. He just stared at Bill without expression. It wasn't Bill's first rodeo, he'd been in this position all too often. He offered his hand to Francis to pull him to his feet. After a short hesitation, Francis took it. Bill hauled him up and clapped him on the back, saying "Good man, we need you here with us. We can't do it without you, son."

They got their gear together and left from the other end of the caboose. Moving carefully along the tracks, they quietly killed any infected they encountered. Francis seemed to be in an ice-cold rage, he drove his axe repeatedly through the infected, totally demolishing them, not just killing them. Bill, Zoey and Louis gave him plenty of room to work. They climbed up a train car and saw a sign informing them they had reached a military evacuation zone. As they walked up a trail, they observed flood lights glowing eerily through the mist in the distance and headed toward them. Below them was a cornfield, where they observed a few infected stumbling about.

As they began to move across the field toward the lights, a small horde attacked them. They were no match for the rage-filled Francis, he cut them down as easily as if they were the stalks of corn they were moving through. The others barely had to use their weapons, they couldn't help but look at him in awe. Bill, on the other hand, was very worried. It crossed his mind that Francis had no intention of actually joining them in the evacuation, that maybe he had made his mind up that he was going to end it all right here.

They made it through the field to a farmhouse and outbuildings, lights blazing from generators scattered about the yard. It appeared to be abandoned, with only a few infected stumbling about, which Francis viciously terminated. Bill noticed that there were some infected scattered on the ground that appeared to have been very recently killed. It seemed to him that either the military or other survivors had been here not long ago. They entered the farmhouse cautiously, not sure what to expect.


	15. Dead in the Water

She fell for what seemed like forever, the sounds of water rushing to fill her ears as she plummeted down. She kicked herself away from the charger and instinctively tucked herself into a ball, and when she finally hit, the impact stunned her. It was like being dashed against a brick wall, a cold brick wall that dragged her under, punching the breath out of her. She automatically gulped for air, taking in a lungful of water, it suddenly felt like it would be so easy not to try anymore. She could just slip under quietly and all the pain would stop, it would be peaceful. She remembered the last time she nearly drowned, it felt exactly the same way. Damn it, she didn't give in to it then, she wasn't going to now. Finally able to move her stunned body, she looked around and could see through the water a faint light. The current rolled her into the bottom, and she knew she had no excuse, because now she knew which way was up. She pushed off the bottom and struggled up to the surface, retching and spewing water from her nose and mouth, as she desperately tried to take air in. Coughing and choking, she tried to yell for help, but the roaring of the water drowned it out as she was rapidly swept downstream.

She tore off the sling and the water-logged sweatshirt that was weighing her down and making it impossible to swim. She saw a shoreline and started struggling toward it, barely making headway as the water swiftly dragged her further downstream. Her injured shoulder screamed in agony. She was a very strong swimmer, she'd been a trained lifeguard years ago, but she was having a tough time with just one fully working arm. Finally, she was swept into the branches of a downed tree on the edge of the river. At first she was thrilled to have made it to the tree, but then the current threatened to push her under it and pin her beneath its branches. She strained and kicked, pushing herself to exhaustion until she finally scrambled on top of the slimy, slippery tree. She carefully crawled on its treacherous trunk over to the shore, falling in an exhausted, shivering heap. This day, which had started out so wonderfully, had turned to total shit, she thought to herself. It was like some sort of evil payback for the morning's pleasure. Sitting up, she took off her remaining clothes to try to wring them out before putting them back on.

She had always hated the cold, and she'd never felt so miserably cold in her entire life. She shook uncontrollably, as she staggered along, looking for shelter, any kind of shelter. She was starting to feel really sleepy, but she knew if she went to sleep now, she would never wake up again. Actually, that was sounding like a good way to go at the moment, fall asleep and just simply give up. But then she started thinking about Francis, and the rest of the group, and she knew she couldn't do that. She was determined to make it back to them. She hadn't really even had a chance to tell Francis how she felt about him. After this morning, he probably had some clue, but she wanted to tell him. She wasn't exactly sure what it was they had going on, but she'd at least like the chance to figure it out.

As she stumbled along, she thought about what outwardly seemed an unlikely union between her and Francis. It wasn't really that unusual for her, for a variety of reasons. For one thing, although people automatically assumed because of her degrees that she came from an upper class background, nothing could be further from the truth. She wouldn't even be surprised if Francis came from a better background than she did. She went to college on scholarships, mainly due to her high test scores and grades, but also because she came from a disadvantaged background. She grew up in a neighborhood rife with drugs, and a home life filled with violence and indifference. Rough men were nothing new to her and she had learned a long time ago not to judge a book by its cover.

For another thing, she'd always gravitated toward the wild ones. It usually lasted for a little while, until they discovered that she was even wilder than they were, in her own way. It inevitably ended when they realized that not only did she have a wide wild streak, but she was totally untamable as well. She shrugged to herself, she would only be satisfied with a real man who could accept her as she was, not try to change her into some pathetic house frau or expect her to be their mother. They usually wanted her to give up her career, her martial arts, her motorcycles or some combination of those, just so she could devote her time to fawning over them. It didn't work for her at all, and she inevitably kicked them to the curb when they got too insistent and clingy.

She didn't know if Francis had what it really took to partner with her, but she liked what she had seen from him so far. He was brave, loyal and, despite what he would have others believe, intelligent. He was also funny as hell, with a mischievous sense of humor, much like her own. She enjoyed being around him and she wanted to see what developed in their relationship. She was determined to do it, no matter what, so she gritted her chattering teeth and kept moving. It was a long shot, but she might be able to catch up to them. The long odds didn't bother her, she played them regularly. She still had her compass, and she knew that they had been heading north, luckily she had wound up on the north side of the river. She continued to head north, clawing her way up the riverbank, trying to get to level ground. She had no idea where the bridge was or how many miles away it might be, she had been dragged downstream for quite a while.

She tried to move quietly, but it was hard to stagger around stealthily. She was lucky in that few infected seemed to be in this area, maybe because it was so remote. The ones she did encounter paid little attention to her, she didn't know why, but that was fine with her. She still had her machete and tomahawk and a couple of knives, but that was it. The Beretta and her brass knuckles-knife were now probably on the bottom of the river along with her katana. She'd left the Desert Eagle in the pack, she just hadn't been using it since her left arm was out of commission and it got in the way of the sling she'd been using. The Eagle was too heavy with too much recoil for her to wield very well one-handed, though she had no doubt Francis would have no trouble doing so. She easily slipped past the few infected she spotted, they didn't even seem aware that she was around. She finally stumbled upon a small livestock shed on the edge of a big field, luckily it had a feed storage compartment filled with old hay bales and discarded feedbags. She crawled through the tiny feed bay door and latched it shut. Tearing the bales open, she burrowed into it, covering herself with the feedbags. She kept herself awake until she was feeling like her little nest had warmed a bit, then she fell into an exhausted sleep.

She woke up in a daze, with no idea of where she was or how she got there. Eventually it all came back to her, and she felt overwhelmed and discouraged. She had no idea what time it was or even what day it was. Her watch had quit working when she slammed into the river. So much for water and impact resistant, she thought sourly. Guess that didn't include being flung off a bridge while still attached to the wearer.

She peeked through the gaps in the feed room boards, judging from the sun, it appeared to be late morning. Shit, a good chunk of the day was already gone! She left the shed behind, still heading north. She tried to keep up a fast pace, it was the only way to keep the bone-aching shivering at bay. As the afternoon wore on, she noticed some lights far ahead, shining through the mist. They looked like search lights, but they weren't moving. She headed toward them, hoping this could be the evac zone they had been searching for.

The number of infected in the woods began to increase, many of them wearing military uniforms. She moved through them as fast as she could, killing with the tomahawk only when it was unavoidable. She was exhausted, freezing and starving, it was a massive effort to engage with them.

She came to some cornfields and crept through them as quietly as possible. In the distance was a farmhouse and outbuildings, which she approached while keeping quietly to the cover. It was very quiet, a few infected stumbled about, but no other signs of life. She approached the house and looked in a window, it appeared abandoned but she could see some weapons and ammo inside, along with a radio.

The radio was broadcasting a message, she could hear a recording requesting that survivors make contact. She looked around her, wondering where the hell the others were. They clearly hadn't made it there yet, otherwise she would have expected to see many more dead zombies. She crept carefully around the house, there were no tracks or any other fresh evidence that any rescue vehicle had been there. She concluded that the rest of the group had not yet made it to the farmhouse evac area. Maybe they never would, maybe they had all been killed somehow.

She shook her head. No, they wouldn't go down that easy. Hell, she couldn't imagine Francis, or even Bill for that matter, ever going down for good. She just needed to wait for them, hold out for another day or so until they showed up. She snuck into the house and quietly closed all of the exterior doors. Creeping from room to room, she silently disposed of the common infected in the house. After this, she was completely wiped out, shaking all over and near complete exhaustion. She needed to find someplace to hole up, where the zombies couldn't find her, but where she could be sure to hear the others when they arrived. She decided she needed to stick as close as she could to the room with the radio, they would definitely need to go there. Looking around the room, she located the perfect spot. She quickly got to work and was soon settled in her hiding spot, clutching the .357 Magnum she had found. Starved, shivering and feverish, she settled in for the wait.


	16. Out of the Frying Pan

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you once again for those who have been kind enough to submit reviews and offer encouragement. It really helps with this first time effort and I sincerely appreciate the feedback.

They cautiously entered the house, looking through the rooms. Bill quickly noted a few freshly killed infected scattered throughout, as they heard the sound of a voice coming from a radio. They found the room with the radio, and glanced around.

Francis went headlong into an enraged rant, "Fuckin' army! We come all this way, and all we find is a goddamned recording being broadcast? I hate the fuckin' army! Assholes couldn't hold down a fuckin' outhouse! Useless sonsofbitches!" He slammed his huge fist next to the radio and then froze, staring at something on the table.

Bill glanced in annoyance at him, Francis seemed to constantly forget that he was former army. If they weren't there, there was a damned good reason. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, his intuition told him this was a very dangerous place. He turned to look at Francis, who was staring wide-eyed at something on the table. He went over to see what it was and couldn't help staring himself.

A familiar looking tomahawk was sunken into the table, holding down a chunk of cardboard. On it, scrawled in what looked like blood, was the one word "cupboard" and an arrow. They all turned to look at the cupboard indicated, which featured a dead zombie leaning against the cupboard doors. Bill approached and pushed the zombie aside. He carefully opened the large bottom cabinet, and a body tumbled out and spilled to the floor, a pistol clattering to the ground with it. He was so surprised, he almost tripped backward on his ass.

Francis gasped and threw himself down, gathering Doc up. She was curled up, unmoving, her skin pale. He looked up at Bill, silently pleading to him. Bill quickly knelt next to him on the floor and reached for her wrist. Her skin was cold to the touch as he felt for a pulse. Feeling nothing, he looked at Francis, his face stricken. He shook his head sadly. Francis gave a low moan of anguish, hugging her tightly to him. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. How could she manage to make her way back from the dead only to be snatched back like this? It was so damned cruel and unfair, he couldn't even wrap his aching head around it. He just knelt there, clutching her, his head bowed as the others gathered silently around him.

Suddenly, she gasped and stirred weakly, muttering, "…crushing me…". He held her in front of him in shocked disbelief as her eyes fluttered open to look up at him. He hugged her tightly, as relief flooded through him. He couldn't even speak, this was all too much for his limited emotional repertoire.

She put her good arm around his massive neck, hugging him back. "Told ya, just not that easy to kill…" she said thickly as she gave him a weary smile. "Bout time you guys wandered in here. What kept you? Spa day or somethin'?" Francis gave her a faint grin, as he kissed her. She kissed him back, then whispered quietly in his ear. The others couldn't hear what she said, but Francis buried his face into her, hugging her tightly.

Bill just stared in utter disbelief, as Louis and Zoey gathered around, patting and hugging both Doc and Francis. He gave himself a mental head slap. God, he was such an idiot! He should have checked the carotid pulse, not a radial pulse in a hypothermic person! Shit, he really needed to wake the hell up! They could have left her for dead because of that stupid mistake! By holding her, Francis must have warmed her just enough to get a response.

Finally, Bill shook himself out of his trance and said, "OK, people. Let's get it together. Louis and Zoey, check the house for supplies and weapons. Francis, get off the damn floor and help Doc up here, we need to get her fixed up and mobile so we can get the hell out of here ASAP."

Louis and Zoey set off on their task, and Francis pulled himself together and lifted Doc onto the table. She gave them a weak smile as she started to shiver while they checked her out. She had massive bruising along one side, courtesy of the fall into the river, plus a fever and infections going on in several places. The polluted river water and open wounds didn't mix well. Bill quickly gave her a strong dose of antibiotics while Francis applied antibiotic ointment. She asked them for water and food. She hadn't eaten since she'd last seen them, however many days that was she wasn't even sure at this point. Francis quickly got some snacks and water out for her. He covered her with blankets to warm her up and soon she felt like she was in heaven. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to last long.

They regrouped by the radio. Zoey and Louis had turned up some medical supplies as well as a few pipe bombs and mollies. It was clear the house was the center of some sort of last stand by military and probably other civilians. They decided that they would hold out in the house, if they were swarmed by a horde. It was better than being out in the open, at least they could cover the entrances with their weapons.

"OK, then", said Bill firmly, "Let's do this!" He activated the radio, responding to the taped message. "Hello? Hello? Anyone out there?", he inquired.

"Holy shit! Captain, there's somebody out there! Read you loud and clear survivors! We're readying an extraction team and will be there in 15 minutes! Prepare yourselves, the infected will swarm so you need to hold them off. Radio back when you are ready!" a voice squawked back at them.

"We're good to go, soldier", Bill answered back.

"OK, we'll be there in 15 minutes. Good luck!" the man responded back.

Shortly after this exchange the howling started, as the infected poured toward the farmhouse. They all took their positions, faces set and grim. Francis had his axe, the AA12 over his shoulder. Bill had his M16, with a Magnum as his sidearm. Louis had the combat shotgun out, with the sniper rifle strapped to his back. Zoey had her SCAR combat rifle and dual pistols at her sides. Doc was armed with the Magnum she had found, with her katana over her shoulder as back up. Bill had happily reunited her with the sword, he had found it lying on the trestle bridge where she had apparently dropped it after being hit by the charger. She didn't feel strong enough yet to wield it, but it was a good backup weapon for her if things got crazy or she couldn't reload the pistol quickly enough. She had several extra clips for the gun all pre-loaded, she hoped it would be enough.

The zombies began to pour into the house, with Zoey and Bill putting down lines of fire that would take out any coming through the front and back doors. Louis was capping anything that tried to go through the kitchen doorway or window across from him, while Francis was chopping down anything that tried to climb through the window or had managed to slip through the other lines of fire. Doc stood on a side table, picking off any the others missed. It was all going very well for a while, they were doing a good job controlling the common infected. Suddenly, a spitter appeared in the window and spat its weird goo all over them and the floor. Francis smashed it with the axe and it fell to the floor, spattering even more goo. It burned Doc's skin, and she desperately jumped onto a nearby table to get away from it. Louis had gotten the worst of it, they had to help him up off the floor. They quickly regrouped and returned to exterminating the remaining horde. Suddenly, it became very quiet and they started to relax, thinking it was all over now. That's when they felt it, the whole house seemed to be shaking. Then they heard the roaring, and looked at each other in alarm.

Francis bellowed, "TAAAANK! He pointed toward the back door, as the hideous, gigantic mutation pounded its way inside. They scattered, Bill and Louis ran out the front door, Zoey ran out the back through the kitchen, and Doc and Francis piled out the window, briefly getting stuck as they both went for it at once. Francis whipped the AA12 from his back, stowing the axe over his shoulder. The tank chose to pursue them. Doc emptied her pistol into it, but was soon out of clips. She holstered the weapon and drew her katana. Francis blasted the thing with his shotgun, it turned its attention to him, bypassing Doc. She ran after it, hoping she might be able to help if it caught up to Francis. Bill, Louis and Zoey had circled the house and now began to fire upon it, as it caught up to Francis and batted him into a wood pile. Doc ran up to it and hacked at it with the katana, distracting it from Francis as he lay battered on the ground. The beast finally slumped to the ground, dead. They helped Francis up and limped back into the house, as howls rose around them again.

They didn't get much respite, as the infected began to pour into the house again. It seemed as if this batch had more special infected than the last. Louis killed a Boomer just outside the window, it blasted a giant hole in the wall through which even more zombies poured. A hunter pounced on Zoey, but Francis was able to knock it off and kill it before it could claw through the heavy jacket. A charger slammed its way through the kitchen, bowling over Francis and Louis and pinning Bill. Doc swept its head off before it could do much more damage. Eventually, the horde subsided and it became eerily quiet again. They all strained to hear, hoping not to have to deal with another tank. This turned out to be in vain, as they felt the entire house shake once more. They ran outside, trying to locate the enormous zombie. It was actually on the roof, and as soon as it spotted them, it swung itself down and attacked. They did their best to circle it, firing away, but nothing seemed to faze it. It heaved a giant chunk of earth at Doc, the slowest of the group, knocking her to the ground. It charged up on her to finish her off, but Francis stepped in front of it, emptying the drum of the AA12. He grabbed his axe as it bore down on him as he stood between it and Doc, but he never got the chance to use it. The tank swatted him, he kited across the yard and slammed into the house near a second floor window with a sickening crunch. He slid limply down the wall and slammed to the ground to lay in a crumpled heap. The others meanwhile had been firing relentlessly into the tank, it finally face-planted on the ground, dead.

Doc rushed over to Francis the moment he fell to the ground to check on him. His face was white and he didn't seem to be breathing, she couldn't find a pulse. She laid him flat and began CPR, hoping he would respond. Then she remembered. Grabbing Bill by the arm, she screamed at him to continue the chest compressions, that she would be right back. Racing into the house, she ran to a closet, grabbed the defib unit she had spotted there and ran back outside. Francis still lay lifeless, so she charged the paddles and shocked him. He gasped and began to breath again, his eyes fluttered open. He was barely conscious as they dragged him up and carried him into the house.

Just then, they heard the sound of a large vehicle entering the yard. They grabbed their gear and ran toward it. Bill and Louis dragged Francis, as he staggered along, while Doc and Zoey brought up the rear. Doc watched in horror as another horde and a tank converged on them, she lit and threw a Molotov toward them, blocking them. They managed to scramble up the ramp and into the armored personnel carrier just in time. The driver jammed it into gear and took off as the ramp clamped shut. Panting, they threw themselves down, scarcely able to believe it. They had made it, they were finally safe with the army. They looked at each other in disbelief, then started to pick themselves up and settle in for what they hoped would be a short ride.


	17. Into the Fire

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm posting an extra chapter today since I don't know if I'll have time this weekend. I hope you all enjoy it. Parts of this chapter are a bit raw and graphic, consider yourselves warned...

They had been bouncing along in the carrier much longer than 15 minutes, Bill was sure of it. The others, with the exception of Francis, started to look at each other in confusion and concern. Francis, still suffering from the aftereffects of his encounter with the tank and defibrillator, as well as his recent sleepless nights, had fallen into a deep sleep and was snoring away, stretched across a bench seat. Doc had curled up on the floor next to him for a while, but then had started moving about in agitation, finally sitting next to Bill.

"Something's wrong, I just feel it. We should be there by now. Where are they taking us?" Getting up, she knocked on the panel separating them from the driver's compartment. It slid open a crack, so she asked "Can you tell us what's going on? I thought it was only going to be 15 minutes?"

"All tango mikes have to go to a separate facility, farther away. It'll be another 45 minutes", the man, wearing a biohazard gas mask, answered in a muffled voice.

"What's a tango mike? Why a separate facility?", she asked in puzzlement.

The man just slid the panel shut without answering. Doc returned to her place next to Francis, frowning. She looked at Bill, concern etched into her features and said, "I have a very, very bad feeling about this". She grabbed her pack and started going through it. He saw her hiding pieces of wire in her clothing, carefully concealing her small knives and finally shoving a thick piece of wire into her mouth, tucking it in between cheek and gum and hiding it there. He raised an eyebrow at that, but she just looked solemnly at him and shrugged, "Better safe than sorry". She sat on the floor, leaning her head back against Francis' chest. She listened to his heart thudding steady and strong and soon fell asleep in spite of her anxiety.

They came awake with a start as the APC came to a halt, the ramp clanging down on a concrete floor. Two soldiers in full respiratory gear ran up the ramp, shouting at them, "Throw your weapons on the ground! Hands on your head! Make one wrong move and we shoot you dead!" Wow, that's catchy, it even rhymes, Doc thought with a sinking feeling, as she followed the others down the ramp. Totally sucky, but catchy.

Francis, eyeing the soldiers, said, "Yeah, I think I know how this goes…"

The soldiers lined them up facing the APC and told them to put their hands on the vehicle and spread their legs, they were going to be searched. An officer directed the other men, he was not wearing a mask as the others were. He silently examined the newest arrivals, frowning at them. He looked them over one by one, staring at them coldly, as his men prepared to do the searches.

Stopping behind Francis, he said, "Handcuff this one, he looks like trouble". Francis growled an objection, but a soldier placed the muzzle of his rifle next to his ear, as another one forced his hands behind his back and cuffed him. They finished searching him and shoved him to his knees.

The officer stepped behind Zoey and said, "Take this one for testing." He also selected Bill for testing. After they were searched, the soldiers marched Bill and Zoey away.

The soldiers searched Louis next, then moved on to Doc. She knew this was not going to go well, but really it was a matter of how much stuff she could sneak by them. They might get most of it, but they wouldn't get it all, unless they did a very thorough search. The soldier started to pat her down and almost immediately shouted out, "Weapons!" The officer approached her, staring angrily at her, before kicking her in the backs of the legs, forcing her to her knees. Francis roared in protest and attempted to get up, but two soldiers grabbed his bound hands behind him and lifted them high in the air, forcing him face down to the ground.

"Strip him!" he ordered the soldiers, nodding toward Doc. The men yanked her jacket, recently retrieved from Zoey, and her shirt off and then backed away in confusion. "It's a female, sir!", one of the men stammered. The officer approached her, leering, he jerked her to her feet, staring down at her. He ran his hands slowly all over her body as he removed her knives, tomahawk and machete, throwing them to the ground. She didn't move or look at him, just stared straight ahead. Francis growled and tried to stand up and was levered back into the ground once more. The man grabbed her jaw, painfully forcing her to look toward him. She glared at him with contempt. He looked into her eyes and gave her a long leering smirk before he shoved her face away. "Take the bitch's shoes and pants off and cuff her", he commanded one of the men, who quickly complied. "We'll need to do a careful search of this one", he said as he smirked at his men. He approached her from behind, crouching to remove the knife on her leg sheath, running his hands up the insides of her bare legs as he stood. He pressed his body against her as he stood and reached around and grasped her breasts, rubbing and squeezing as he "searched", then he ran his hands down her stomach slowly. He reached the top of her underwear and started to slowly pull them down. She clenched her jaw and delivered a powerful jumping back kick to his groin. He fell to the ground bawling in pain, as one of the soldiers bashed her in the shoulder and then in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. She stumbled against the APC and then crumpled senseless to the ground.

Francis roared and thrashed from his pinned position, as he started to get up, howling, "Leave her alone, you bastards. I'll fuckin' KILL you!" One of the soldiers losing the struggle to hold him down finally took his rifle and slammed the butt into Francis' head. He folded onto the ground, unconscious.

Louis watched all of this, confused and terrified. He thought they were going to be saved, but now he wasn't so sure. These people were treating them like they were enemy prisoners, and he had no idea why. The soldiers took him and Francis, dragging the unconscious man along by the arms bound behind his back, to a small cell with two beds in it. They dumped Francis on one of the beds, removed the handcuffs and then left the cell. They posted a man outside on guard, in full respirator gear, who looked in on them occasionally.

Louis went to check on Francis, he was bleeding slightly from the rifle butt hit, but it didn't look too bad. Louis threw himself down on the other bed, wondering what the hell he should do. This was not what he was expecting at all, and without Bill's direction he had no idea what to do. Guess I'll just have to wait until Francis wakes up, then maybe we can come up with a plan. The thought of having to make a plan with Francis, of all people, forced a grim smile to his face. Heaving a sigh, he tried to rest as he waited for the big lug to return to consciousness.

She awoke face down on the floor of a small cell, shivering and breathing musty dirt, her hands still cuffed behind her. For a moment, she couldn't gather what she was doing there. Images flashed through her scrambled brain as she tried to sort it all out, but then she remembered the officer touching her, and her head began to clear. She could hear talking outside the cell and decided to try to get out of the cuffs and remain on the ground. They would pay less attention to her if they thought she was still unconscious. She spat out the piece of wire she'd been hiding and quietly wriggled around until she got it in her good hand. She pushed the wire into the cuffs, trying to unlock them, without success. She traded hands to try the other side without any luck. They must be double locked, she thought, she wasn't even sure she would be able to unlock them, especially with her hands behind her back. She had just started to work on it when she heard steps approach the door. She quickly lay back down on the ground, pretending to be unconscious.

It wasn't long before the cell door creaked open and she heard the sound of boots crossing the floor. She was kicked hard in the side, she gave a muffled grunt in response. Suddenly, a strong hand grasped her by the throat, lifting her up and throwing her on a metal bed. Surprised, she gasped at the intense pain and pretended to be startled into consciousness, squinting up at her tormentor. Of course, it was the guy whose cajones got kicked up his throat. He looked very, very angry and was carrying a police baton. Uh oh, she thought, not good at all. He smiled as he watched her looking at him with alarm.

"You made a huge mistake, my dear", he gave her a vicious grin. "The cells are my domain, and I can do whatever I please down here." He smiled again, enjoying himself. "You've been very bad and I will be personally punishing you", he said as he fondled the baton, twirling it lazily. "Don't worry, we won't be disturbed, I like to have a little privacy for my…corrections. Feel free to scream and yell as much as you like, nobody will hear you. Well, they might hear you, but nobody will come to help you."

She looked at him with resignation, this was shaping up to be a long goddamned day. She already knew that she wouldn't scream and that he couldn't make her scream. She had learned many years ago, as a small child, that screaming didn't help. Nobody would help and you would just get beaten harder if you screamed. It was better to suffer in silence and hope the person beating you would become distracted so you could run away. Later, once she was older, it became an act of defiance, when they wanted to make her scream. They would become enraged because she wouldn't scream and plead like her siblings, she would just stare at them with contempt as they hit her. So then they beat her harder, trying to force her to do it. She never screamed. Ever.

She eyed him cautiously, thinking about whether she should try to go for him now or wait until he got closer. He still had a sidearm and the baton, so she decided to wait until he put one or both of them down. It was going to be much more difficult to overpower him with her hands cuffed behind her, but it didn't look like she had much choice.

Without warning, the man whipped the baton into her stomach, she gasped even as her breath was knocked out of her. He smashed it down on her hip, then again on her thigh. She choked out a curse and bit her lip, refusing to scream, but a few grunts of pain were forced from her. She was already bruised from falling from the bridge, his blows on those bruises were excruciating. He just laughed at her as he hit her hard several more times, across the hip, shoulders and back, as she tried to curl against the wall for protection. Irritated by her refusal to scream, he hit her even harder with the baton, leaving her groaning in blinding pain.

"You know, by the time I'm finished, you'll have screamed yourself hoarse. No point in holding back." He smirked at her as he administered several more blows.

She looked at him with utter contempt, trying to keep her voice steady, she growled at him, "Just do what you came here for and get the fuck out! You're not impressing me so far."

He glared at her, then gave a vicious grin, "Don't be in such a hurry, my dear. We'll get there soon enough. Or would you like to have some now and then more later? We can do it that way, too, come to think about it. I'll bet that big bastard has been screwing you senseless. Miss that, do you? Well, you can forget about him, he's not dead yet but he will be soon. I'll do him myself, and you know what? You're going to get to watch. He won't get to die easy, we'll have a little fun with him first."

He leaned over her, holding a knife against her throat as he whispered in her ear the things he was planning on doing to Francis while she watched. She shook her head, trying to move away from him and the sickening words, like poison being dripped into her ear. He pinned her down by the throat and brought a knife up to show it to her and caress her face with it. She recognized it as one of hers. "I see you like knives. How do you like being on the other end of one?" He held the knife to her throat, pressing down as he drew it lightly across her neck. She could feel the sting and blood dripping, her heart was pounding with an adrenaline rush. He leered in her face, then ran the knife down her chest. He cut her bra off with a quick flick of the knife, then trailed it slowly down her shuddering belly, slicing the flesh open lightly with the knife that she herself had sharpened to a razor edge. He stood up and slashed the knife through her underwear. He ripped it off, staring down at her as he quickly undressed himself, he didn't want her blood all over his uniform.

She looked away, the guy was a disgusting worm compared to Francis. She shivered in revulsion and squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed herself away from him and curled into a protective ball.

He growled, angered at her moving away. Suddenly, he smashed the baton across the side of her head, wrenching her head around to force her to look at him as he pushed her flat on the bed. He shoved her legs apart, as she gasped in pain, groggy from the head blow. He got between them, leaned over her and pushed the baton across her throat, leaning his full weight into it, choking her hard. He leered at her as he watched her struggle to breath, then he held the knife tight against her throat again. He released the baton and reached down with one hand.

That was close enough, as far as she was concerned. She whipped her legs up, catching him in a triangle choke, squeezing as hard as she could. He struggled, panicking, the knife bit deeply into the side of her neck as he flailed, but she wouldn't stop. She tightened the choke as hard as she could, crushing him as he gurgled and gasped, until finally he fell limp. She quickly pushed her cuffed hands down to her knees and pulled her legs through until her hands were in front of her. She searched the unconscious man, finding and using the cuff keys from his front pocket to free herself. She grabbed the knife off the floor and, after a brief hesitation, thrust it into his jugular and twisted hard to bleed him out. His blood sprayed everywhere, spattering salty and warm across her face. She swiftly bundled his body onto the blood soaked bed and put the blanket over it. She wiped the blood off herself as best she could then quickly dressed in his clothes and boots, a little large, but not too bad. She opened the door and carefully scanned the hall. It looked completely empty. She would need to somehow find the others. She suspected Louis and Francis were probably nearby in another cell, while Bill and Zoey might still be in that other building. She found a rack with full respirator hoods in the hall and donned one, it helped cover her bruised and bleeding throat as well as offering a convenient disguise.

She located their cell after nearly half an hour of wandering the long corridors. She spotted the guard in the hall and approached. The man nervously saluted and stood at attention. She hoped he wouldn't notice the ill fitting uniform and that she was a bit shorter than the man she just killed.

"Any trouble from them?", she asked as she tried to imitate the dead officer's voice. The mask helped muffle her voice, so that was a help.

"No, sir!" he answered.

"Good, good", she replied as she looked in to see Francis and Louis glaring out. "You need to keep a very close eye on them, we think that they may be able to change into specialized infected", she continued, staring carefully at the captives. The man's eyes glanced nervously into the cell. "You need to watch them constantly, don't take your eyes off of them. If you see anything unusual, call it in." She stepped back and let the guard replace her, he stared in at Louis and Francis.

She slipped the pistol out of its holster and slammed the butt of it into the man's head. He folded like a cheap suit, and she grabbed the swipe card and used it, opening the cell. She dragged the guard in and closed the door. Louis and Francis jumped up and stared at her warily. She whipped the mask off, "What the hell are you boys waiting for? A written invitation to escape, or what? I thought it was the guys that rescue the girl, do I have to do every goddamn thing around here?" They stared at her in astonishment, then ran up to her.

Francis hugged her to him and kissed her. He looked at her with concern, her neck was badly bruised and bleeding heavily from a deep cut. He touched it, "What the hell happened?"

She just shook her head, "Shaving accident? It's nothing. Look, this place is serious bad news, we need to find Bill and Zoey and get the hell out of here. Louis, put on his uniform, cuff and gag him and shove this guy into a bed and cover him up."

She looked at Francis thoughtfully as she said, "Well, that just leaves us one problem, a big one…what the hell to do with you. We'll never find a uniform to fit you. This is like trying to disguise Sasquatch, for chrissakes!"

Francis frowned, it wasn't his fault that most other guys were frickin' midgets.

She stared in contemplation at him some more, then suddenly a big grin spread across her face. "Not Sasquatch! Chewbacca!" she shouted gleefully as she thumped him on the shoulder.

Francis looked at her, trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke at his expense, "Wait…what?" he replied in confusion.

Louis figured it out a moment later, grinning widely he chuckled, "Chewbacca, it's perfect!"

Doc pulled out a pair of handcuffs from the duty belt and approached Francis, "You're gonna be our Chewbacca! You know, the scene where Han and Luke are trying to get to the prison cell holding Princess Leia, and they march Chewbacca into the cells as if he's their prisoner? Put your hands behind your back, I'll put the cuffs on but I won't lock them. We'll pretend we're taking you for testing, it's perfect!"

Francis shook his head, "No, no fuckin' way. There's no way I'm just waltzin' out there in cuffs. That's never gonna work."

"You got a better idea? I think it's perfect, gives us the perfect excuse to go into the lab area. Come on, Francis. Worked for Luke and Han, it'll work for us!", she assured him with a grin, holding the handcuffs out to him.

He just shook his head, muttering to himself, and put his hands behind his back. She cuffed him, then had him make sure he could easily get out of them. If he cupped his hands together behind his back, the cuffs would be on and wouldn't just fall open. This wasn't exactly his first time wearing cuffs, so he managed it easily. Doc and Louis grabbed their masks and got set to leave the cell.

Before they left, Doc turned to them and told them, "Just so you know, I had to kill that officer and I have no doubt that if they catch me, they'll kill me. So I'm leaving here, no matter what it takes, or die trying. It's that simple. I'm gone or I'm dead, no in between for me. Come on, Wookie, let's roll!", she said grimly, as she put on her mask, opened the door and stepped out of the cell.

"You did WHAT?!" Francis asked in a whisper as he stared at her anxiously.

"Never mind, I'll explain it all later. If there IS a later, that is", she answered him.

Louis led the way, since he was the only one who had been brought to the cell area conscious, they were dependent on him. Francis walked behind him, and Doc behind him, holding the assault rifle. They passed a few soldiers in the halls, none of which paid much attention to them or their prisoner. Louis showed them the equipment room where the soldiers had thrown their gear. As they were preparing to leave the building, an alarm blared through the compound.

"Shit, it looks like they figured out they've got an escape already", Doc said, in disgust.

Just then, they heard a loud announcement blaring through the compound:

"Evacuate, Evacuate. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill. Evacuate to fall back positions. Infected have breeched the compound. Proceed to fall back positions". The announcement kept repeating and a deafening siren began wailing.

Doc looked at the others, "Well, this may be our lucky break. They'll be scrambling like mad, focused on the infected, they may not even care about us. Let's go grab our gear, then find the others and get the hell out of here. If anybody stops us, we've still got our excuse for going into the labs", she nodded at Francis. They went back to the room, grabbed the gear and proceeded out into the open compound.

Soldiers in masks were running everywhere in complete chaos. Louis led them toward the building he thought Bill and Zoey had gone into, but as they crossed the large open compound, they heard a familiar piercing whistle. They turned to look for the source, spotting Bill, Zoey and a man in a doctor's coat waving toward them, urging them to join them.


	18. Tango Mikes

Bill and Zoey were marched over into a medical laboratory area. Technicians drew blood and they gave saliva samples as well. They waited in a room for hours, until a doctor entered. He was young and looked frightened and agitated.

"The results show that you're both carriers", he informed them. "You and your dad here are both infected with the virus, but you are asymptomatic."

"He's not my dad, we're friends", Zoey corrected him. "Does this mean that we won't ever turn?"

"Yes, we think that's what it means, not that it matters", he replied.

"Son, what do you mean, "not that it matters"?" Bill asked grimly.

"Well, you saw the bulldozer shoving bodies into a mass grave out there? That's what they've been doing with the carriers. They dispose of them, so that they can't spread the disease", the man replied nervously, as he studied their faces.

Bill and Zoey looked at each other in horror. They escaped from the zombies, only to be killed and "disposed of" by the army? Bill immediately began to patch an escape plan together. He glanced at the guard standing in front of the door, he walked up to it and kicked it straight out, throwing the guard against the wall. Bill grabbed the M16 off the floor and trained it on the man, motioning him back into the lab.

"We're leaving, and anyone who tries to stop us is going to be killed", Bill growled. He walked up to the quaking guard and smashed the rifle butt into his forehead, knocking him out cold. He walked towards the young doctor, a similar fate in mind for him.

The man pleaded with him, "Please, take me with you! I'm a carrier too. As soon as they have no use for me, they'll kill me too! I can help you escape, just take me with you, please!"

Bill and Zoey looked at each other and nodded. "Fine, how can we get far, far away from here?" The young man thought for a moment, then said, "Troop transport! There's a train yard on the other side of the compound, we might be able to take the train, it's usually not even guarded!"

"OK, sounds like a plan!", Bill answered. "But we need to find our friends, we can't leave them behind."

Just then an alarm started blaring, followed by an evacuation announcement. The doctor looked at them in complete panic, "No time, we need to get the hell out of here now, while we still have a chance!" Bill shook his head, "Show us where the detention cells are! Now!" Shaking in fright, the man led them out of the building and into the central compound. Soldiers were running around wildly as streams of infected began to pour over the walls. They heard the bestial roar of a tank in the distance. Christ, that's all they needed, thought Bill.

Bill just happened to spot the familiar hulking shape of Francis just across the compound and gave a shrill whistle to him. He could now see that some guys in military uniform were with him, it was only once they got closer that he realized it was Louis and Doc, still wearing their biohazard hoods as a disguise. Luckily, they had brought the group's gear and weapons with them. He quickly told them the plan and objective and they grabbed up their gear and weapons and struck out, hurrying toward the transport train.

Infected poured into the military compounds from every direction, attracted to the blaring alarms, loud gunfire and screaming people. Bill watched as the infected swarmed and overwhelmed small pockets of soldiers, too panicked to even organize themselves into a decent defensive formation.

Francis led their group, wielding his axe like an angry colossus, while the others covered the flanks, shooting any approaching infected. They moved steadily toward the train depot, making decent progress as most of the infected seemed to concentrate their efforts elsewhere. Bill bolted ahead of them and leapt on the train, racing to the engine room. Looking at the controls, Bill quickly fired up the engine and fumbled with the controls, finally he started the train moving forward. Louis and Zoey quickly jumped aboard as the train started pulling away, screaming for the others to get on board.

Francis ran for it, looking wildly around for Doc. She was over near the guy in the doctor's coat, slashing with her katana as she backed toward the train, unaware it was already moving. He roared out to her and she turned to look at him, she yelled at the other man and took off, running as fast as she could. She was too slow, the injuries over the past couple of days had taken too much of a toll, Francis could see she was never going to make it. He reversed direction, sprinted toward her and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her with him as he ran for their lives. They caught up to the train and he threw all of his momentum into the arm holding Doc and basically launched her aboard, leaping in after her.

He had put so much effort into that brief sprint that he was seeing spots dancing in front of his eyes. He was on his hands and knees, gasping as he tried to catch his breath, while Doc lay limp on the floor as she struggled to fill her burning lungs. He watched as the man in the doctor's coat frantically struggled to get to the train. He heard Zoey screaming at Bill to slow down and let him on. He watched as the man fell further and further behind, until finally some infected dragged him down and out of sight as he screamed in terror. Francis shook his head sadly. Shit, he thought, some things couldn't be unseen, and that horrifying sight was one of them.

Francis helped Doc to her feet, and they stumbled to a room with a small bed in it, legs rubbery. Francis threw their gear down and went to check on the others and find some food and water. He found Zoey and Bill shouting at each other in the engine room and quickly withdrew from that battle zone. Louis was settling in to sleep in another compartment. Francis located some bottled water and also discovered boxes of snacks and microwaveable stuff for the mess car. He heated up some meals and grabbed some snacks and water and headed back to their room.

Doc was wearily stripping the dead officer's clothing off as Francis came back in. He gasped in alarm when he saw her, she was covered in bruises, her skin a mottled bluish hue. Dark black and deep purple bruises covered her almost entirely. She had blood running from her neck and down her chest and stomach, blood smeared everywhere as if she had bathed in it. He couldn't help noticing she didn't seem to have any underwear anymore either. She looked at him and seeing his shocked expression, gave him a sad smile, "Not much too look at, am I? I guess I really know how to bring out the best in some people." She flung the uniform down in disgust.

He carefully hugged her. "You look beautiful to me. A little bit smurf colored right now, but still beautiful…"

She shook her head grimly as she slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt recovered from her pack, the last of her spare clothes.

He grabbed some disinfectant and helped her gently to the bed to clean up the cuts. They weren't too deep, just enough to bleed lightly, except for the gaping wound on the neck which would definitely need stitches.

He pulled her to him and gently held her, trying to avoid the bruises. "Tell me what happened…did he…did he…um, you know…violate you?"

She looked up at him with a frown, "Would it matter to you if he did?"

Francis took a deep breath, taking a moment to push his rage deep down. He said with a heavy sigh, "No, it's not your fault. I just wouldn't want to, you know…make it worse, hurt you in any way..."

She shook her head, "No, he didn't. He was trying to when I killed him." She looked down, avoiding his eyes as she spoke softly, "He beat me with a baton, choked me and threw me around by my throat, cut my clothes off. He had one of my knives and used it to cut me. Told me he was going to kill you himself and make me watch. When he tried to get on top of me, I choked him out and then cut his throat open. I didn't have to kill him, but I wanted to. It felt…good…satisfying. Shit, I'm turning into a monster…"

He could feel her tears wetting his chest. He tipped her chin up to look at him and smiled at her, his brown eyes softly regarding her, "Nope, you're the most badass woman I've ever met in my life. You're amazing, and don't you ever forget it. That piece of garbage needed killing, you did the right thing."

She pulled away, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head. "No, you don't understand, it's not about him. If anyone deserved it, he did. He was evil. He said you wouldn't get to die easy, that he was going to have "fun" with you. You don't even want to know what that sick prick meant by that." She trembled briefly and then shook her head hard.

"It's not about the killing itself, it's about losing control and feeling good about killing and hurting, it goes against everything I've ever been taught!" She sighed heavily. "Killing people comes way too easily to me. What bothers me most is that that could just as easily have been you! If Bill hadn't stopped me, I might have done the exact same thing to you. That's what's bothering me! You think I don't remember? I could have killed you, under the right circumstances, I would have! I would have snuffed your life out just as easily as I did his. I might have even felt happy about doing it! I have nightmares about it!" She shook her head as if she were trying to fling the memories out of it.

Francis grabbed her and held her close against him. He'd been afraid this would come up some day, and now here it was, but not at all in the way he expected. "Hey, take it easy…" he hugged her tightly, "I'm perfectly ok, you didn't even hurt me. I'm the one who hurt you! I'm sorry about that, I lost control too. If anybody is a monster here, it's me, not you."

She shook her head, her body stiff in his arms. He tried again, struggling to get the words out. Shit, he'd felt more comfortable being held at gunpoint than this. "You know…I care for you. A lot. And I think you feel the same. Do you?"

She nodded slowly, "You know I do. It doesn't matter to me what you did back then, I provoked it anyway. In the grand scheme of things, that doesn't even make my top ten list of getting worked over. As you've seen, I don't do submissive captive well, it almost always ends badly." She gave him a small smile.

Francis stroked her back gently. "So, we're good now?"

She nodded slowly again and heaved a sigh, "I wish I never remembered it. I'm just glad Bill was there to keep me from doing something I would have regretted."

"Come on, let's eat this stuff while it's still warm, then we can work on fixing you up." Francis set out the food and began eating.

They quickly devoured everything he had brought, as well as some granola bars from the packs. Then they got down to healing their wounds. She cleaned up Francis' head wound and his other scrapes and scratches. He cleaned up her neck and put some stitches on the deeper cut after using the last of the lidocaine. It was a bad cut, going all the way through the skin and into muscle, knicking a tendon. A little deeper and it could have hit the carotid artery and she might have bled out. She explained a little about how it happened when she was doing the choke while cuffed. Francis just shook his head as his stomach did a weak flip, she could have easily been killed while trying that.

She took off her clothes and went in the little attached bathroom and filled the sink with water to bathe and clean up a bit before putting any ointment on. She also wanted to wash every trace of that disgusting man off of her. Francis joined her, wiping the cloth gently on her bruised skin, squeezing the water to run down her body onto a towel. She was soon returning the favor, cleaning the dirt and grime off him, the water running over his bulging muscles. They were soon carefully making love in the little bathroom, then again on the bed, until they both collapsed in exhaustion. They lay twined together, each lost in their own thoughts. Francis finally tore himself away and got some gauze and tape and the antibiotic ointment from their gear and began the nightly ritual of patching her back together. Soon they were sound asleep, with Francis' arm draped over her, snoring softly, curled up on the bed.

Bill knocked and poked his head in to check on them and discuss engine room shifts and saw them sleeping. He quietly ducked back out. He was glad those two had found each other, and that they got Doc back. If it wasn't for her, he doubted that they would all have made it out of there. He softly closed the door on the two unlikely lovebirds and headed back to the engine room.


	19. Internal Combustion

The first day on the train passed quietly, with everybody resting and recovering. Zoey had finally called a ceasefire in her war against Bill and his plan, although there was still a lot of tension between them. Louis relaxed and watched a few movies and started a new book on the iPad. Francis and Doc were catching up on lost time together, and barely ventured from their tiny room, except to eat.

By the second day, Doc was already starting to feel restless and confined. Francis was perfectly happy to relax and chill, but she seemed filled with a nervous energy. In spite of the terrible bruising covering her, she started practicing and working out. She really felt like she was getting out of practice, killing zombies didn't require any finesse, just firepower and brute force with melee weapons. Francis watched as she practiced her martial arts forms and sword exercises in one of the empty luggage cars. He watched her practicing her rolls and somersaulting kicks and jumps with nothing short of amazement. Just for fun she showed him some jiu jitsu and wrestling holds, encouraging him to practice and develop his skills. She knew he would be nearly unstoppable if his skill set matched his prodigious strength. Francis humored her, but he was content to rely on raw power, it typically worked just fine for him.

She was taking a break from practicing some forms, with Francis watching as he sat along the wall.

"Why do you need to keep doin' that stuff, when you got it down cold?" He couldn't help wondering what the point of the endless repetition was.

She shrugged as she wiped the sweat off. "It's so you do things automatically, almost without thinking, when it comes to a real fight. I know it looks kind of slow motion in practice, but in a real fight it all comes back full speed."

"Well, I doubt it would do you much good in a serious fight against somebody like me. A real person's not gonna stand still long enough to do a lot of that stuff." He replied as he stood up and stretched.

She gave him a wry smile as she walked over and looked up at him. "I would have thought you learned your lesson the first time, Chief. You think you're up for a rematch?"

He shook his head, grinning back at her. "Nope, you would just end up getting hurt. Pretty sure you just got lucky that time." It did bother him a little bit, but he was confident he could win if he were more careful and kept the fight off the ground. She was way more dangerous on the ground than he was. He could ground and pound, but she had all sorts of chokes and joint locks she used to good effect. He'd already seen how she could slap a choke on in the blink of an eye.

She snorted. "Yeah, right. Luck had nothing to do with it. I'll be happy to prove it to you, cupcake." She winked and gave him a mischievous grin. "You know how to spar, right? We can settle this right now." She gestured toward him to square off with her.

He shook his head. "No, seriously, I don't want to get you injured. That's the last thing we need right now." He waved her off.

"Oh come on! Nobody is going to get hurt, I'll be careful, I promise. Open hand strikes, pull the kicks and a pin is a defeat. It'll be fun to spar with a real person for a change." She beckoned to him again.

He hesitated, this just had bad idea written all over it. "All right, but I still think it's not such a good idea. You're not exactly a physical match to me."

"You can let me worry about that. I don't consider the size mismatch much of an issue, it may even be a disadvantage for you. You have reach on me, but I've got a much lower center of gravity, so watch your balance. Five minute sets ok? You'll have to time it, I don't have a watch." She backed to the center of the car as she waited for him to join her.

He set himself up across from her, and after checking his watch, gave her the go ahead. Fists raised he circled her cautiously, she tried to bait him in a couple of times with feints, but he didn't go for it. She finally feinted toward him and then slid past him, giving a high and low kick without contact. He tried a counterstrike as she slid past, but somehow she pulled his hand through and up, causing him to spin to the ground, while dealing him an open-handed cuff in the face. Almost instantly, she had him in a heel hook and he was forced to concede. Frustrated and grumbling, Francis got back to his feet. So much for keeping it off the ground, he thought to himself.

They took a quick breather and set up again. Francis decided to be more aggressive this time, wading in with a series of quick strikes to the head and body. She barely managed to evade them, blocking and jumping with lightning speed, he was remarkably quick for somebody his size. She was slightly off balance as she jumped backwards to avoid a strike and Francis took advantage of it, pouncing toward her to deliver a head strike. She deflected the blow with a block, pulling his fist straight to the ground and using his momentum to send him crashing onto his shoulder and back. He gave a pained grunt as his back protested with a burning twinge. She was already on top of him and swinging herself into an arm bar when he yelped in pain.

She released the hold and looked down at him with concern. "Oh shit! I'm sorry. Are you ok? What happened?"

He lay flat on his back, waiting for his back to stop spasming. "I think you threw my friggin' back out. Told you this was a bad idea…"

"Sorry, I should have been more careful. I forgot you probably don't know how to fall properly. If you can stand up, I can try to help." She offered him a hand and helped haul him to his feet. She had him stand up with his arms up, then went behind him and pulled him over backwards to lie along her back, stretching him out as she lifted him off the ground. By carefully bending and straightening, she gently stretched him, curved over her back.

Francis groaned, as the back spasm stopped, the tension in his back relaxed and he felt his spine decompressing. "This is fuckin' awesome! This feels fantastic, better than before! I could do this all day!"

"You could, but I sure can't. You're still a load, buddy boy. Come on, time to get off my back, dude." She straightened back up and tipped him back onto his feet.

He stretched his back a bit more, it felt fine, actually more relaxed and flexible than before. "Wow, it was worth it just for the back stretch. You've been holding out on me, that feels awesome! I'm gonna ask you to do that every day now!"

"No problem, just let me know when you want to stretch it. I'll expect the same from you, though. I can show you how to do it some time. Anyway, I'm sorry, I should have listened to you. Guess I'll have to do without any sparring and just hope I don't get too rusty and out of practice." She grabbed up her towel and katana off the floor.

"Don't think you need to worry, darlin'. Anybody who tangles with you is going to deeply regret it, you can take care of yourself just fine." He grinned and kissed her lightly. She shook her head, she wasn't so sure he was right about that. She'd been whipped enough by multiple attackers that she knew she was still vulnerable to them. They headed back to the room to wash up and get something for lunch.

Doc decided she would like to go through her iPad, maybe read a book or watch the videos, so she reclaimed it from Louis one day after lunch. They were back in their room, Francis stretched out on the bed with Doc leaning back against him as she idly checked out the iPad, shaking her head at the many useless apps that could no longer function without the existence of the internet. No phone service, no internet, no nothing. The only things that still worked were files fully loaded on the device and a few of the basic apps that didn't require a connection. She started checking through the files, when suddenly she sat bolt upright. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Son of a bitch!" she shouted, enraged, as she bolted out of the room, flinging the iPad down on the bed. Francis jumped up and ran after her, wondering what the hell was going on. She headed straight for Louis' room, and when she got there she gave it a jumping sidekick that made the door violently explode inward, bent and broken in the frame. Louis stood there in complete astonishment, turning toward her, as she administered a vicious front kick straight to his chest. He slammed across the room, crumpling into the opposite wall and falling to the bed. She jumped at him, but Francis had come in behind her, he plucked her out of the air, wrapping one gigantic arm across her. Louis was speechless, partly because he had the breath kicked out of him, he stared at her in shock and confusion.

"You bastard piece of shit! What gives you the right to decrypt my private videos, you fuck! You had no right to do that!" she fumed at him in a blind rage. She continued to try to lunge at Louis, struggling against Francis.

Louis, stuttering, tried to explain, "I…I…I…I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! We didn't know when we watched it…"

"We? What do you mean, "we"?", she stared at him, horrified at what he was saying. "We, as in everybody?!" she whipped her head around at Francis, staring at him. Francis said nothing, avoiding her eyes, which told her everything she needed to know. "Did you all enjoy it? Get off on it or something? I hope it was fucking worth it to you!" Furious, she struggled against Francis. "Let me go, NOW…" she growled at him.

"Take it easy, it wasn't like that! We're sorry, OK? Everybody just felt really bad about what happened to you, that's all!" Francis said as he struggled to hold her. She might be relatively small compared to him, but she was all muscle and he was having a tough time containing her without hurting her.

In a cold fury, she tried to shrug him off of her and said, "Oh, so now everybody feels sorry for me? That makes everything SO much better! I don't want your fucking pity! Get. The fuck. Off. Me!" Francis kept restraining her, he had no idea what she might do when she was so enraged.

In the blink of an eye, she grabbed his wrist, applied a wrist lock and slipped under his armpit, then switched it to an elbow lock, shoving him down on top of Louis. They both cringed as she kicked a huge hole in the wall and then punched her fist straight through a glass decorative divider. It exploded in a shower of glass.

Bill entered the room, shouting. "What in the hell is going on in here?! Sounds like goddamn World War III!"

Doc just bellowed at him, "MOVE!" as she shouldered her way past him. He took one look at her and quickly got the hell out of her way. The look she gave him, like a wounded and cornered animal, had him jumping back away from her reflexively. "What the…?" Bill asked, as he looked at Francis and Louis in confusion. Francis jumped up and bolted out of the door after her, while Louis clutched his aching chest and tried to explain to Bill what was going on.

Francis ran out into the narrow hallway, but there was no sign of her. It wasn't that hard to figure out where she had gone. Drops of blood trailed down the hall, which was punctuated with smashed walls and broken windows. It looked like a small tornado had gone through. Which in a sense, it had. He tracked her through the train, coming to the last car, he saw the door had been smashed open and the bottom hinges broken. With a sigh, he went out there. To his surprise, she was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled and worried, he called for her.

Finally, she answered him, "Just go away, I don't want to talk."

He looked around, realizing she was on top of the car. "Get down here! We don't have to talk, just come down" he said, worried she might fall off.

"Go the hell away! Don't make me jump off this fuckin' train, because I'm giving serious thought to that option." she informed him tightly, yelling over the wind rushing past.

"Don't say shit like that! It's not funny, now get the hell down here!" Francis was beginning to get angry with her.

She groaned in frustration, "Please for the love of fuck leave me alone! Go find some other charity case to work on for fuck's sake! Have you checked with Zoey? Maybe she has Daddy issues she can work out with you!"

Francis gritted his teeth, she was so goddamned infuriating. Nobody could drive him half as crazy as she could. He hauled himself up the ladder and looked over the edge, she was lying spread-eagle on the roof, staring up at the sky. Between the height and the ground rushing past, it was completely terrifying up there.

"Don't make me come get you, damnit! If I fall off of here, I'm gonna be pretty pissed!" he warned her through clenched teeth.

She raised her head to look at him, clutching the edge of the roof, white-knuckled, as he started to climb up. She let her head fall back on the roof with a dull thud. Heaving a sigh, she said, "If you fall off, you're gonna be pretty dead. Get the hell down before you kill yourself." She walked to the edge of the roof, then swung down and dropped back onto the rear deck.

He climbed down and stood there frowning, blocking the ladder, arms folded across his chest as he waited.

"Happy? Now fuck off!" she said over her shoulder, as she faced away from him, looking out at the fields passing by.

Francis was sorely tempted to do just that, after all, it was second nature to him to run. In the past, he would have stormed off and never even looked back. Running away was what he did best, and he'd had plenty of practice doing it. Running away from his foster homes, relationships, the Hell's Legion, the law. He used to think of running away as the same as being free, but he was only now beginning to realize what it had cost him. No, he was finally through with running away. He would stay and play his hand if it fucking killed him this time.

"Nope, not leaving you like this. I'm not gonna run off just because you want to push me away", he informed her quietly. "I learned a long time ago, you can't run from your problems or hide from your past. It's ok if you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

She gave a snort of disbelief. "Do you? Do you really think you understand the first thing about this? When's the last time people you thought were your friends got together to watch a video of somebody doing shit like that to you? And do you have any idea how creepy it feels knowing that you saw that?" She flicked her hand hard at the ground, annoyed at the blood running down it, leaving a spray of blood across the deck.

"Come on, you're bleedin'. Let's get that patched up, ok?" he said, worried as he saw the blood pouring from her right hand.

She looked down, seeming to see for the first time the cuts on her hands. She just shook her head, "I could care less. It doesn't matter, I don't feel anything anyway."

She paced agitatedly back and forth on the small deck, running her bloody hands through her cropped hair. Tripping over a cement block on the deck, she glared at furiously as she punched downward, dropping to one knee, breaking it in two. She hurled the broken pieces off the deck, watching them tumble down the tracks behind them.

Francis stared at her with concern. He'd always assumed that breaking concrete stuff in martial arts was bullshit, using props or something. That was no prop she just demolished with a single punch. He was just hoping she cooled down before she hurt herself any more than she already had. She stood there, clenching and unclenching her bloody fists as she stared down at the tracks.

Finally she just slumped to the platform, leaning against the wall, hands dangling over her knees as the blood continued to run, dripping to the deck. Sighing, she leaned her head down on her knees and folded her arms over her head. She looked suddenly small and very vulnerable to him.

Francis stared at her in dismay, frozen, as he tried to figure out what to do. This was all miles out of his comfort zone. He started to move toward her, but stopped when he looked up and spotted Bill in the doorway, looking over at him with an arched brow. He just shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands up, in an "I have no idea" gesture. He shook his head and waved him off. She seemed to be calming down, he didn't want her to get agitated again. Bill frowned and turned away, heading back toward the engine room.

So he just waited and watched. She just sat there, unmoving, until eventually she stood up and stumbled back to the room and threw herself down on the bed with an arm over her eyes. Francis followed quietly behind her.

"Will you let me look at those cuts now?" he asked her as he headed over to root through the med supplies.

"I don't care. Do whatever you want. Fix it, don't fix it. Whatever, doesn't matter…" she mumbled through her arm.

Francis grumbled curses under his breath, as he gathered supplies up. He sat down next to her and picked up her free hand, cleaning it off with a wet cloth. He shook his head as he surveyed the damage.

"I'll need to put stitches in several places here, OK?" He started to get out the suture material and needles, suddenly remembering there was no lidocaine. "Dammit! The bad news is there's no lidocaine."

She shrugged and mumbled "Yeah, terrific. That figures. Look, can you please just leave me alone? I've got a massive headache, just want to be left alone right now."

"Let's get the cuts stitched up first. I'm gonna get Bill, he can stitch while I hold it still. Be right back." Francis hurried out of the room. He found Bill and explained the situation, they both quickly returned.

She was laying on the bed exactly as Francis left her, but she didn't respond at all to them, at first he thought she might be giving them the silent treatment. He gently shook her thinking she might have even fallen asleep, until Bill realized she was unconscious and carefully moved the arm over her face back down to her side. He checked her pupils, finding them both slightly dilated, but responsive.

Francis was bewildered, she wasn't injured badly enough to be unconscious. What the hell was going on?

Bill checked her out carefully. He looked over the bruising and cuts around her neck. "What's this about? Do you know what happened here?" he asked Francis.

Francis nodded and wordlessly showed him the huge bruises covering her torso, hips, shoulders and back, as well as the cuts.

Bill gasped in shock, "What in the hell happened back there?" He hadn't seen anybody this badly beaten in decades, and those people were POWs.

Francis looked down, his face tightening in anger. "After you left, that officer stripped her and groped her. She kicked him in the nuts and they knocked her out cold. In the prison cell he cut her with her own knife and beat her with a baton while she was cuffed. Tried to rape her and she choked him with her legs. He flailed around and sliced into her neck. Once he was unconscious she got out of the cuffs and slit his throat. She made it out of the cell and then got us out. That's about all I know, but it's enough. She went through hell in there, you see how he brutalized her, it was torture."

Bill shook his head grimly. It wasn't the first time he'd heard such a story, the outcome here might have been slightly better, but he knew how serious this was. He'd observed other victims of such violence and stress become unhinged.

Bill figured she probably just tried to forget about the whole thing and move on, but finding that they all had seen that old video brought it all rushing back. He hoped she wasn't in a full-blown breakdown. Not that he would blame her, but they just didn't have the means to deal with it right now.

"She's been through a serious trauma. Even if she pretended she was ok, she wasn't. Put yourself in her shoes, somebody doing that shit to you while cuffed and helpless. It would be goddamn terrifying, the level of fear had to be tremendous. People lose their minds over stuff like that. I'm not surprised at what's happened here."

Francis nodded, his jaw clenched. She played it off as if it were no big thing, but there's no doubt it had to have been a harrowing ordeal. He couldn't even wrap his head around how he would feel if something like that happened to him. The worst part was that while he and Louis were hanging around in their cell, bored but safe, she was being tortured and badly beaten at the hands of that animal. She was all alone, without anybody to help her, and he felt terrible about that. It was a goddamned miracle that she managed to get a choke on that miserable bastard and overpower him. He was damned proud of her, she really was amazing.

Bill looked down at Doc thoughtfully, wondering what they could do to help. First things first, they needed to stitch up her cuts.

"Well, I'd say it's a toss up on why she's out. A recent head injury, it's possible this is from a small bleed, could be a clot from the beating, or it could simply be exhaustion and over the top stress. Given everything that happened back there, I'm more surprised that this didn't happen earlier. Well, at least she's not going to feel the stitches when we put them in. Let's get it done before she wakes up."

They quickly got the deeper cuts stitched up and Francis cleaned the smaller cuts and put antibiotic ointment on them, as well as on the knife cuts.

Francis finished up and stood to stretch his aching back, rubbing his hand through his short-cropped hair. He felt drained as well, just mentally exhausted, his head was killing him, too. He took some pain meds and lay down on the bed next to her and drawing her close, he eventually fell fast asleep.

When he next woke, it was nighttime. She was still unconscious, curled against him. He eased himself out of bed and went to find something to eat. He found Bill in the dining car, smoking as he stared out the window. He rifled through the food, picking out some microwaveable noodles and beef jerky. He set himself down across from Bill and began to eat.

"So, how'd it go?" Bill asked, stubbing his cigarette out and lighting up another one. He must have found a stash of them somewhere, thought Francis, or he wouldn't be chain-smoking right now. Either that, or he's really nervous.

"It didn't really. She's still out. Not sure what will happen when she wakes up." Francis replied between mouthfuls. He quickly gulped 2 bottles of water down, maybe that would help his headache.

"Hmmm…she can really go off, can't she? Trashed the train, cracked Louis' sternum. Think she'll keep it up?" Bill asked with concern.

Francis shrugged. "Dunno. She's got a quick temper, maybe even quicker and hotter than mine, which is sayin' somethin'. I don't think she'll go back after Louis. I can't get her to talk. I don't get it, I don't understand her at all. Most women, you can't get them to shut up when they're mad. She's like the polar opposite of that, you can't get a word out of her. It's unnerving, man. It really doesn't help that she could kick my ass into next Sunday if she felt like it. Playin' with nitro would be safer. She punched and broke a concrete block in two out there…", Francis just shook his head as he finished up. "Any ideas?"

Bill shook his head. "Nope, I have no clue what to suggest for this one. My recommendation is that you keep your head down and stay out of the line of fire. Maybe she has to work this through on her own."

Francis nodded as he grabbed more food and water to bring back to the room. "Better get back there. I don't want her to leave and climb back up on the roof again or some damn thing."

Bill's eyes opened wide, "She did what?!"

"Yup, that's where I found her, almost had to drag her back down. She's somethin' else when she gets mad, that's for sure. I'll see you tomorrow and let you know how it's goin'." Francis ducked out the door and hurried back to the room, where Doc seemed to be exactly as he'd left her. Francis stayed awake for a little while longer, trying to think of a way out of the current emotional predicament, before giving it up, taking some pills and going back to sleep.

He awoke the next morning, gazing blearily around him. He couldn't believe it, but she was still out. He lightly flicked her cheek and shook her shoulder, but there was no response. He quietly slipped from the bed and went to check in with the others and get some breakfast.

They were gathered in the engine room, checking out the track ahead while they drank some coffee. He grabbed some food and coffee and joined them.

"So, how's it going?" Bill asked, lighting up a cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke toward the ceiling.

"Same old. She's still out cold, starting to really worry me now." Francis shook his head. It wasn't good that she was still unconscious and he started to worry that it was a stroke or a bleed causing the problem.

Zoey frowned as she said, "This is bad, real bad. I guess she probably feels like we betrayed her trust. I don't know if we can trust her now if we get in a bad situation, you know?"

Francis scowled and shook his head, "You don't need to worry, I don't think it's us she's really mad at. Anyway, Doc has always been reliable in a fight, I don't think that will change".

Louis just frowned. His aching chest told him differently. He wasn't sure he could ever fully trust her again. She probably felt the same way about him, which would make teamwork nearly impossible.

"Let's hope so. I don't know how the hell we are going to make it anywhere if we're fighting with each other. We've got to settle this, and the sooner the better." Bill replied. "Let me know when she wakes up, maybe I can try to talk to her."

"Will do", Francis replied as he hurried back to the room to check on her. She remained unconscious. Francis felt her forehead, then checked her various cuts, scrapes and gunshot wounds, redressing them. All seemed fine, so he tried to stop worrying.

She was out cold for the rest of that day and into the next one. Francis kept a worried vigil over her, sleeping occasionally next to her on the bed.

Finally, the next morning she stirred, stumbled to the bathroom, then back to the bed, throwing the covers back over her head with a groan. Francis watched this mutely from the chair he'd been dozing in.

"Hey darlin', welcome back," he ventured, moving over to sit next to her. "How ya feelin'?"

"Crppy" was the muffled reply he got.

"Come on, get up. You'll feel better if you eat and drink somethin'. It's been days since you had anything at all. Come on, let's go." Francis reached down and pulled the covers off. She blinked blearily back at him before jamming a pillow on top of her head.

He patiently pulled the pillow away and dragged her up to sit next to him, folding his arm around her. "C'mon, we can't have you layin' around all day. Let's go, up and at em'. What can I get you?"

"Arsenic? Never mind, too slow. Got any tetrodotoxin or saxitoxin?" she asked as she rubbed her brow, grimacing in pain.

He just rolled his eyes at her, "How 'bout some orange juice, coffee and granola bars instead? There're poptarts, too. Be right back, Drama Queen." He went off to get the food and let Bill know that she finally woke up. He hurried back to the room, a little anxious about leaving her alone right now. He half expected her to have gone straight back to bed, but instead he found her sitting at the little table, swallowing pain meds and washing them down with the contents of a small bottle of whiskey. Where the hell did that come from, he wondered? He raised an eyebrow at her, and she set it down and capped it, looking thoughtfully at it.

"What's that for?" he asked, nodding at the flask.

She avoided his eyes and shrugged.

He sighed as he set out the food he'd brought. "Come on and eat something. You're gonna burn a hole in your stomach, drinking that stuff on an empty gut, take it from me. You know that's not going to solve anything, right?"

She shrugged as she picked listlessly at the food, "Makes me forget a little about the stuff that has no solution, though." She ate a little bit, then used the little bathroom to bathe and wash her hair, she even found a little travel toothpaste to brush her teeth with.

When she came back out, she seemed to be feeling a bit better, almost back to her old self, Francis thought. His optimism was dashed though, when she immediately went back to the bottle of whiskey and drank a fair amount. She smiled wanly at him, "Don't worry, this is a self-correcting problem. I don't think there's any more, unless I manage to find another stash of it."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a while, then spoke. "What's going on? Are you checking out on me? 'Cause it feels that way. If you are, you should just tell me, and not try to hide in a bottle, ok?"

She just stared at the wall, gripping herself tightly as she shook her head. "No…I'm not upset with you." She gave a heavy sigh and sat down on the bed. "I just kind of feel filled with some sort of unfocused rage inside. I can't really explain it. I'm drinking right now to try to take the edge off, so I don't lose it like I did the other day. I start feeling really agitated like I could jump right out of my own skin with pure rage. When this has happened before I used to just go out and do crazy stuff like ride the motorcycle, running in triple digits. Go to the gym and get into sparring matches where I knew I was outmatched and going to get whipped within an inch of my life. Beat the macho bikers in street races, get in fights. Stupid shit like that. But it gave a kind of release, and the totally enraged, agitated feeling would go away for a while."

She threw herself back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know how to fix it. I barely know how to control it. I don't blame you if you don't want anything to do with me. Hell, I don't really want anything to do with me anymore. I'm seriously fucked up and I'm dangerous, it's a bad combination."

He looked over at her, giving a small smile. She had just perfectly put into words exactly how he felt at times. They were very much alike, more alike than they were different, both broken and twisted. And he suddenly knew he loved every broken, twisted part of her and that without her, he felt so…incomplete, like he hadn't lived a day in his life before he met her. That he'd been living some sort of hellish half life. He knew he had to just tell her, he owed her that much.

He sat down on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Hey, don't talk like that. Know something? I love you, even if you do obviously have a screw loose," he grinned, settling in next to her. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I've felt that way, too. More than a few times. My outlet was based more around cracking some skulls, but the same general idea. I've been where you are, and I just want you to know you don't have to be there alone, ok? I love you and I want to be there for you, if you'll let me."

She stared at him for a moment, then gave him an uncertain smile. She'd just revealed to him that she was a complete head case and instead of running for the hills like any normal person would do, he wanted to stick with her. She hadn't expected that, he definitely surprised her. She was also surprised to hear him use the dreaded "L" word, she wasn't expecting that either. She knew it was huge for him to say that, it was not something he said easily. Hell, it wasn't something she said easily either, she'd only whispered it to him once. And he hadn't answered her back that time, either.

Sighing, she hugged him tightly. "I love you, too. I just hope you know what you're signing up for here. I think you're crazy to want any part of this mess."

He turned her head toward him and kissed her, softly and then deeper. "Maybe that's why we're perfect together. Two crazy people in a crazy, fucked up world. Anyway, there are other ways to work out those feelings," he suggested as he ran his hand across her bare stomach.

She gave a weak chuckle, "Is that your cure all solution? Be careful what you wish for, mister. You might not be up to the task of dealing with this, it could get a little rough. You could get hurt…"

He gently brushed his hand across her, "I've had a few days of rest, think I can probably risk it. There's only one way to find out…"

A few hours later Bill stopped by to check on the situation and see how Francis was making out with the group's problem child. His knock went unanswered, so he quietly poked his head in. They were both sound asleep, soaked in sweat, in bed again. He shook his head, at least some things had gotten back to normal. He only hoped they managed to get her head straightened out, and fast, because the train trip was coming to an end shortly.

Later that day, Francis caught up with Bill and let him know he thought things were resolving. Doc didn't come out of their room at all that day, she seemed to be avoiding them. Francis just shrugged and said she would come out when she was ready.

In the meantime, Bill pitched his plan to the rest of the group. Bill's idea seemed most logical, they needed to find a boat and get to an island. They hoped they could get the train down close to The Keys in Florida and get a boat there. Bill wanted to take a sailboat, which made a certain amount of sense, since they might not be able to find sufficient fuel for a cruiser. Zoey continued to be critical of Bill and generally unenthusiastic about his plan. Zoey did not want to flee, she wanted to stay and help any other survivors wipe out the zombies and take back the country. The others could see how badly this bothered Bill, but nothing they could say to Zoey seemed to make any difference.

Francis told Doc about Bill's plan. It seemed to make sense, but part of the plan made her nervous. She didn't know much about boats or how to navigate to an island. The ocean had always made her nervous and the thought of trying to cross to some unknown island was way out of her comfort zone. Bill had assured them that he had plenty of experience with that and would take care of that end of things. She tried to keep her nervousness to herself, she didn't want to let it infect Francis, and possibly sink Bill's plan. She kept to their room, still not comfortable being around the others yet. The thought of them watching that damned video, looking on her with pity, made her throat choke and stomach burn sourly.


	20. Port of Maul

The tracks eventually ended, forcing an end to their train trip. Doc rejoined the group, shifting around, nervous and uncomfortable, jaw clenched, not talking. She was wearing the dead officer's military uniform, with the shorts and t-shirt underneath and the dead man's too large boots on her feet. The rest of her clothing had been lost at the military compound. They gathered their gear and disembarked, finding themselves in a port area. Wrecked vehicles and boats littered the area as infected roamed through the destroyed buildings and roads.

"Francis, tell Bill I'm ready to go." Zoey said, with Bill standing only a few feet away.

"Louis, tell Zoey I don't know what's going on." Francis replied, as he rolled his eyes.

Louis just shook his head, this wasn't a great start to the next leg of their journey.

Bill stared angrily at Zoey, he couldn't believe she was acting this childish. This was going to be a disaster if they didn't stop this petty bickering.

Francis was already in a bad mood, picking up on Doc's anxiety and irritated to leave the relative comfort and safety of the train to go back into the shit storm he was sure awaited them. "Bill, I guess I missed part of your plan", he said in annoyance. "I caught the part about the train ride, the boat and the island in paradise, but I guess I missed the part where we're stranded in the middle of goddamn nowhere!" He kicked a discarded gas can in irritation, it bounced through the parking lot into a parked car, setting off the alarm.

"Francis!", Bill snarled, darting an angry glance at the tattooed biker. Francis scowled back and hefted his axe, as howls rose around them. Zoey sighed, shaking her head, "Here we go, guys…" She pulled out a pipe bomb, armed and launched it across the lot yelling, "Fire in the hole!" They ducked behind a nearby van, as the beeping pipe bomb attracted the horde, then exploded, blasting them to bits. Peering around the van, they saw only a few infected still intact. Francis strode out and cut them down easily.

Doc glanced around curiously. This didn't look like the Keys to her, it looked more like an industrial port. She spotted a sign on the main road and her heart sank, Daytona 25 miles. They were well north of the Keys, they must be on the coast just above Daytona. She elbowed Francis and gestured to the sign, he pressed his lips together grimly and nodded.

"Yo, Bill! Looks like we're a coupla hundred miles north of the Keys. What now?" Francis asked, staring angrily at the sign as if he could will it to change into something more accommodating.

Bill contemplated it for a moment and then shrugged. "We'll see if we can find a boat up here and sail it down, it'll just be a slightly longer boat trip."

As they proceeded down an alley, Doc could see from her position as scout at the end of the alley, that their route was completely crawling with infected. She signaled for a halt, then crept back to Francis. "We are in seriously deep shit. They're everywhere, way too many to cut down using melee weapons. If we fire upon them, I expect we are going to call every single one of the damned things within earshot. We need to formulate a plan." She tugged on his vest to indicate he needed to come with her to talk with the others. They crept back to the rest of the group, where Doc explained what she had seen. After some discussion, it was decided the most logical thing was to try to lure them into a narrow space, rather than try to fight them out in the open. Bill came up with a plan and after a few angry protests from Francis, they set it in motion.

Doc crept out of the alley and kept in cover, sneaking through the groups of infected behind vehicles and debris, finally standing up and yelling to them, as she sprinted back toward the alley. Howling, the zombies scrambled to catch her, pouring in a rotten, savage torrent behind her. She tore down the alley, then leapt up onto some crates, climbing to the top. Further down the alley, the remainder of the group stood on the far side of the alley, drawing the attention of the mass of infected as they rushed in. They threw a Molotov down, stopping the horde rushing toward them. Meanwhile, at the back of the mob of zombies, Doc pulled out another Molotov and flung it down behind them, essentially trapping most of the zombies in a fiery inferno. All without firing a single shot. She dropped down to the ground to finish off a few stragglers that had arrived late for the barbecue with the katana. Suddenly, a loud explosion seemed to envelope her and flames shot into the air. She was blown out of the alley, landing in a surprised and very unhappy heap near the river's edge. She lay there for a few minutes, stunned, ears ringing and totally disoriented. Once they could get through the burning alley, Francis ran over to her. She staggered to her feet, then leaned up against him, as he checked her over. Bill, Zoey and Louis came over as well. Other than a few small shrapnel cuts, and a bit of scorching, she seemed ok. She looked over at the burning alley in puzzlement, and looked back to Bill with a quizzical look.

"Looks like those white barrels can explode", he said as he pushed a broken chunk of the barrel with his rifle muzzle.

She rolled her eyes and snipped, "Geez Bill, that's the fuckin' understatement of the year!" She stomped back down the alley, looking for her shotty and katana, which had gone flying too.

Luckily the explosion did not seem to attract more zombies, but they moved as quickly as possible out of the area just in case.

They continued alongside the bay, walking past nearly destroyed buildings, killing lone or small pockets of infected as they went as quietly as possible. Francis repeatedly pointing out boats, mostly sunken, that they should take. Doc couldn't help laughing, she knew that was just his way of easing the tension, and it was pretty hilarious.

Looking around, they realized that they needed to keep on their toes, there had to be at least one Tank around. They entered one building, finding a Molotov and some ammo piled on a table. They took as much as they could carry, then followed some stairs to the second floor.

"Whoa…check this out!" Doc said with a murmur of appreciation. She picked up a grenade launcher from the floor. "This should do some damage!" she found a small case of ammo for it. "Any takers?" she offered it to the others.

"Hell yeah…" Francis grinned as he took the weapon and shoved it in the big pack, along with the ammo. "Those bastards think they're sick now, wait until they get a taste of this!" he said with a smirk.

"Just make damned sure you fire those rounds far away from us", Bill reminded him. "Otherwise you're liable to take us out too."

"Don't worry old man, your beard's safe with me." Francis grinned at him. Bill snorted and frowned at him, Francis and his damned beard jokes. He couldn't believe the horseshit he had to put up with from these kids.

They found a boatyard full of boat trailers, next to some tracks and wrecked train cars. As they approached the train cars they heard a loud banging, followed by roaring. In disbelief they stared at one another. There was a tank in the train car! Naturally, it turned out that was the only way to get through to the other side. They could retrace their steps and try to go around somehow. Or the direct approach, just open the car, kill the tank and get to the other side.

After a little consideration, they had a plan. Somebody would have to slide open the train car door, in order for their plan to work. Francis joked around as they decided to draw straws for it.

"Hey Bill, I think there's a sailboat in there. No? Hey Louis, that's not a tank, it's a PUPPY! You should go let it out!", he grinned. He thought it was pretty funny, anyway. How come everybody else was just rolling their eyes?

In a fitting act of karma, Francis got the short straw. Doc didn't like that one bit, and argued about it. "This makes no sense, Francis is the logical one to fire the grenade launcher. He's the best shot we have and that thing is gonna kick like fuckin' mule, he's the best one to use it. He should be in a position to fire into the car and at the tank, he can't be that close to it. I'll do it, I know I can keep clear of the thing, I've done it before." Predictably, Francis didn't want Doc to open the door either.

Finally, Doc said, "Look, I'm gonna do it. Francis, if you go up to the door, I'm coming too. So no matter what, I'm gonna be there. Period. You can either be in the proper position with the grenade launcher, or not, your choice." Francis cursed in frustration, she could be so stubborn, it drove him nuts. Especially when she was right. He bowed his head in resignation and growled at Bill, his teeth clenched, "This better work, old man."

They went forward with their plan. Doc slid the door open and dashed the Molotov down, leaping away from the door and sprinting back toward the group. The flaming tank bounded out of the car with a roar, only to be greeted by a grenade, courtesy of Francis. The tank roared and charged toward him, and got another grenade for his trouble. Then Zoey and Bill opened up on the flanks with their assault rifles. The tank faltered, uncertain where to charge. Francis lit it up with another grenade and it bellowed in frustration and charged toward him. Francis darted behind a boat, as Doc and Louis began firing their auto-shottys into the tank. Distracted, the massive mutation searched for his new attackers. Turning in confusion, the combined fire of the entire team finally overwhelmed it and it sank to the ground, dead.

They were elated. "Now that is the way it is done, people!" Doc cheered. "Holy shit, one of our plans actually worked, I can't even believe it!" They all laughed, it was nice when something worked out for a change.

Francis jumped in the car to open up the other side. "Ugh, yuck! It smells like Bill's beard in here!" he said, trying not to breath the unbearable stench in the car as he struggled to slide the gore encrusted door open. He wasn't sure what stunk worse, the decomposing bodies or the pools of bodily fluids and waste presumably deposited by the tank. The rest of them hung back until the door was open, then dashed through as fast as possible.

On the other side of the train was a brickyard, they walked through stacks of bricks, exterminating infected as they found them. They entered the building and headed for a saferoom, thrilled to have made it through one more leg of their journey. They were a little disappointed not to have located a boat yet, but tomorrow was another day.

The saferoom was a small single room and yielded few supplies. They scrounged together some food and water from their packs and ate quickly. Francis insisted on cleaning their weapons, they'd been fired quite a bit that day, so he and Bill set to work on it, while the others filled clips, then spread out their bedding and relaxed.

Francis finished up and went to lay down next to Doc. They combined their bedding and Francis began the ritual of spreading antibiotic ointment on her injuries. Most of them, aside from the abscess and bullet wounds, had healed nicely by now, leaving him with less to cover. That was ok with him, he could think of a few other things to do. He gently massaged her back for a little while, erasing the knots of tension in her shoulders and lower back with his strong fingers. She sighed in satisfaction as he kneaded her sore muscles with his strong fingers. He then pushed her shirt up and began kissing his way down her back.

"Watch what you start", she warned in a whisper, "we may not be able to finish." She gestured with her chin to the others bedded down only a few yards away. Louis was on watch, absorbed in trying to make some pipe bombs, paying no attention to them.

Not that Francis cared. He eased her shirt and shorts off under the blanket, lowering himself next to her, as he shed his clothing. "I don't care", he whispered in his low growl next to her ear, "They'll just have to deal with it, they won't see anything under the blanket." She started to protest, but his soft and firm touch drove any objections from her mind, as she stifled a moan.

Somebody threw a shoe at them and told them to get a room, resulting in a warning growl from Francis and a chuckle from Louis. Whoever it was decided to drop their objections.

Not surprisingly, they were the last to wake up next morning. Zoey had fallen asleep on her watch and they never woke up for their shifts. Bill was not pleased, but he couldn't fuss too much about it since he had slept through the night as well.

They dug through their packs for food. They were down to a few granola bars, and some left over chips and chocolate from the last of the train stash. They divided it up and ate. Bill noticed that Doc once again gave most of her portion of the food to Francis. He had first noticed this during the train trip. When they had gotten together for meals, Doc ate next to nothing, pushing her food around then offering it to Francis, who generally inhaled anything put in front of him without question. Bill was concerned, it wasn't going to help the team if she became weakened from starvation.

Bill cleared his throat, "So, Doc, is everything ok? I've noticed you haven't really been eating much for a while now."

She sighed, "I'm fine, Bill, just not much of an appetite. I don't really need to eat much to get by anyway. I haven't lost any condition due to limited food yet, unlike some of you. Francis needs a lot more calories to get through the day than I do, he's lost quite a bit of weight just since I've been with you. Back before all this mess started, I usually only ate once a day, and I was more active than I am now. Unless a tank is chasing my ass around or I'm hacking up a couple hundred infected, I'm actually getting less exercise than I normally would. I'm the kind of person that could probably survive on a tic-tac for days. When I worked with horses, we had a term for those that didn't need to be fed much, we called 'em "air ferns". I'm the human equivalent of an air fern, just super efficient with extracting calories from food."

Francis, who hadn't realized that he'd been eating most of her food, shook his head, "You've gotta eat! Aren't you hungry?"

She just gave him a wry smile, "I'm always hungry, but I've learned to live with it over the past twenty years or so. I'm just made to survive on very little, if I ate whenever I was hungry, you wouldn't be able to fit me through the damn door. Seriously, I can go for quite a while with nothing and be perfectly fine, as long as I have water. Anyway, I'm not a fan of this carby crap, you are more than welcome to it. Gives me a sugar rush then a massive crash and a headache. I'm holding out for some real food."

Francis just frowned and shook his head. He would have to be a little more careful and make sure she ate something and didn't just give all her food to him. He was damned hungry all the time these days, he didn't know how she could stand it.


	21. Way Overboard

They left the saferoom and found themselves going through the rest of the brickyard, past a large building and man-made pond. There were scattered infected, but they presented no major problems for the group. Doc had started using her bow again, the gun shots in her shoulder were almost healed, so she cut them down easily. Francis happily hacked up any leftover infected with his axe. They passed a large metal-sided building and walked past some industrial storage hoppers. Just beyond that, they could see a giant ship docked next to shore, and a huge pile of gravel with a gangway leading to the ship's deck.

"Hey Bill, can we take this ship? It looks cool!" Francis asked, contemplating the giant vessel.

"No, Francis." Bill sighed impatiently, "Do you know how to pilot one of those? Let's check it out though, there may be some supplies up there."

"OK, everybody climb up this pile of shit." Francis called. They struggled along up the giant gravel pile. For every step they took, it seemed like they were sliding back 3 steps. "Does anyone wanna guess what I'm hatin' now?" Francis asked in disgust. Everyone just snorted out a laugh.

As they got near the top of the pile, a bunch of crows took off, screeching loudly. "Uh-oh, nesting birds, Bill. Better watch your beard!" Francis yelled to him as he indulged himself in another beard joke. Bill just rolled his eyes, as the others grinned.

Suddenly, screams and howls rose to meet them. A horde in full cry was heading their way, but it wasn't even clear where they were coming from. They hurried to try to make it to the gangway, or at the very least get to higher ground.

Doc was the first to get to the top, she could see zombies streaming from the boat and surrounding shoreline, pounding up the gravel mountain toward them from all sides. She urged the others onto the gangway, following Francis as the last on. She whirled around, kneeling with the katana, while Francis used the AA12 behind her. Soon a pile of bodies lay at the gangway entrance, as well as behind them. The infected were exterminated relatively easily and Francis and Doc had turned to follow the others toward the ship, when suddenly a smoker grabbed Francis from below and tried to drag him right through the gangway railing. If it succeeded, he would fall to his death on the gravel far below. Doc quickly chopped through its tongue, as Bill killed the smoker with his M16. They helped Francis up, he was fine, just shaken at how close he came to falling from that height.

Once on the boat, they began to search it. They were able to find some ammo and medical supplies. Using his axe, Francis broke open one of the hatches and he and Doc searched inside. They found the galley and took as much unspoiled food as they could fit in the backpack, as well as some water. Doc found some empty flour sacks and filled them up with food too, tying them together and slinging them over her shoulder, she loaded as much as she could carry. It looked like they would have a decent meal tonight, as long as the saferoom had some means of cooking it.

They walked toward the bow, peering down into the holds, which seemed to be partially filled with gravel. Louis spotted a boomer lurking across the ship on the starboard side and picked it off with the sniper rifle. It disappeared with a muffled boom in a red mist. They were carefully walking along the port side when suddenly, from behind some large vent covers on the deck, a charger bellowed and barreled toward them. They barely had time to turn and look at it before it smashed into them. Francis and Bill were knocked to the deck, while Doc was bowled right over the railing and into the ocean far down below. The charger clutched Zoey and began pounding her into the ground. Louis whipped out his assault shotgun and pumped several blasts into it before it died. Zoey struggled to her feet, the charger had knocked the breath out of her and bruised her, but the armored motorcycle jacket she was wearing had protected her from any major damage. Francis and Bill staggered to their feet and lunged for the rail, looking down, but there was no sign of Doc.

They kept looking, eyes straining for anything down there for an impossibly long time. Finally, her head bobbed to the surface, as she coughed and retched, spewing water as she bobbed in the waves. They all heaved a sigh of relief. She started slowly swimming toward the bow of the boat, trying to find a ladder to climb back up. She located some hand holds built into the ship's hull and climbed up to meet the rest of the group.

"This is getting old, I hate those fuckin' things!" she sputtered, still coughing up water as Francis tried to help by thumping her back, nearly knocking her to the ground. "What the hell is with them constantly dumping me in the water, anyway? Ugghh, it's putrid down there, dead bodies under the water everywhere!" She shuddered in disgust, noting that she was now covered with the stench of decaying flesh. She'd lost her bow and all the supplies she had been carrying, as well as the heavy uniform she'd been wearing. The heavy clothes had made it impossible to swim, so she'd shed them. It was the supplies that almost killed her. She'd had them slung over her shoulder and when she went under they wrapped around her neck and dragged her down, through the rotted corpses. It took her a while to free herself so she could surface.

"Sorry guys, I lost a good chunk of the food down there", she coughed as she pulled her t-shirt up to wring it out. Zoey and Louis stared in shock, her entire torso was black and blue, a big cut running down the length of it, gauze bandages falling off in a sodden mess.

They jumped off the ship at the bow and walked along the dockside until they came to a series of machine shops and mechanic's garages. They spotted a saferoom sign and followed it through a loading dock and into the saferoom set just inside. It was a relatively small saferoom, but at least it had a bathroom and working propane stove inside. It was still early afternoon, but they decided to stop for the day, considering their latest encounter and the fact that they had no idea when they would find the next saferoom.

Doc was happy to get inside, but her problems weren't over there. She had no dry clothes left to change into.

"Take those wet things off, hang them up and just go in your skivvies, a sports bra and boxers is plenty of cover and nothing we haven't already seen", Bill finally suggested.

She just shook her head in frustration, "I don't have any."

Bill looked at her, confused, "Don't have any what?"

"Underwear, ok!" she said, exasperated. "Do I really have to spell it out for you? Lost 'em back in the damn prison cells. Do you want the short version of what happened? Remember the decrypted video that you all watched? Well, same shit, just substitute army officer, baton and a knife and you've got the general idea!" She stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door. Francis swore under his breath, he hoped she wasn't headed into another melt down.

Francis dug through the big pack, taking out the food they scavenged and found what he was looking for. Knocking at the bathroom door, he opened it and thrust the small blanket in to her, it would be better than sitting around in soaking wet clothes. A little while later she emerged, blanket wrapped around her, and hung up the wet clothes to dry. Zoey and Louis looked on sadly when they saw the horrible bruising on her neck, shoulders and back, it was clear their companion had taken a severe beating back at the military compound. Francis went over and gave her a quick hug and urged her to lie down and rest while they got supper together. She threw down some bedding and collapsed on it, arms over her face, eventually falling into an exhausted sleep.

The others busied themselves putting dinner together or loading ammo clips. Francis made a massive amount of spaghetti with meat sauce and fried onions, into which he put some canned green beans. Louis pried open a large can of fruit cocktail, and then made some biscuits using a mix. By the time it was ready, they practically jumped on it like locusts. Francis tried to get Doc to join them, but she refused, insisting she wasn't hungry and just wanted to sleep. He frowned at her, but didn't push it. She was still clearly not at ease with the others.

Later, after the rest of the group had gone to bed, he warmed her food back up, brought it over, set it down and lay down next to her. He knew she was awake, the tension in her whole body was apparent. He began to gently massage her neck and back until she relaxed. He sat up against the wall and drew her up to sit next to him. "Come on, you've gotta eat something, ok? I'm gonna sit here until you do. I'm not gonna let you starve yourself like a moron. Do you wanna get so weak that even I can take you down? Can't let that happen, can ya?" He wrapped his massive arm around her.

She gave a weak chuckle, "Nope, guess I can't let that happen. It would go straight to your head. Think you're the big dog all of a sudden. God knows what would happen then." She picked the plate up, picking at the food, eating slowly. "You know, you're a good cook. Takes some talent to turn the stuff we scavenge into something this good. Where'd you learn how?"

He smiled as he answered her, "I started cooking when I was just a kid. Foster parents couldn't be bothered, I was the oldest, so I just started cooking for my foster brothers and sister. Did it until I ran away as a teenager, actually landed a job working as a line cook for a while a long time ago, but I never really got back into it."

"Huh…I started cooking when I was a kid, too. Never really took to it though, just satisfied with making something barely edible. Maybe because to me, it was just another unwanted chore, in a long list of unwanted chores. I was the responsible one, so I always got saddled with everything. I was basically unpaid labor from the time I was six until I moved out after high school", she said as she polished off the plate of food and started to pick through the fruit cocktail. "Parents split up when I was 12, so I got stuck with all of the typical guy chores around the house then, too. On the positive side, I can run and fix lawnmowers, roof a house, run a chainsaw, change tires, use a tractor, loader and backhoe. You name it. I'm a jack of all trades, master of none, as they say. Or in my particular case, doctor of some, I suppose", she chuckled wryly as she finished eating and set the plate down.

He snorted, "You, darlin', are the master of many things…" he pulled her onto his lap, kissing her gently, "not the least of which is my black, little heart!" She laughed and kissed him back, letting the blanket slide down. They were soon tangled in the bedding, making love quietly so as not to disturb the others.

When they were done, Francis dozed off and she threw a blanket over him and got up to finish his watch shift, wrapping the small blanket back around herself. She rooted around in their pack until she found the iPad and charger. Cranking on the charger, she slowly charged it up. Many hours later, as dawn was beginning to break, Bill woke up to see her pacing anxiously, clutching the iPad as she listened to something on the ear buds, glancing down and whisking through screens.


	22. Going Viral

Bill got up and approached cautiously, he didn't want to startle her. "Morning, how ya feelin?" he asked from a safe distance as he lit a cigarette and shoved his beret on his head. "How come nobody woke me for my shift? Not that I'm complaining about the extra sleep, but what's going on?"

She sighed and plucked the ear buds out, "Morning, Bill. I'm fine, I took all the shifts. I couldn't sleep anyway, after this", she tossed the iPad into her pack in disgust.

"What's going on?" he asked carefully, eyeing the discarded device. He thought she might be getting ready to blow up about that damned video again. He edged his way toward Francis, still sound asleep, in case he needed him.

"You don't want to know, Bill", she replied gloomily. "But I guess you should…I guess everybody really should know this. Let's get breakfast together, and I'll tell everyone at the same time." She walked over to Francis and shook him gently to wake him. After a bit of grumbling, he got up and started getting breakfast together with her help.

They woke the others and sat down to eat. Francis had made pancakes with hash and fried potatoes and they all, with the exception of Doc, eagerly wolfed it down. Francis glanced at her quizzically, she seemed really down this morning, he wasn't sure why, she seemed ok last night. And she wasn't eating. Again. He frowned at her, were they going to have to go through this at every damned meal?

Once they finished, she told them there was something important she needed to tell them. "OK, so I went over some files on the iPad last night." Francis and Louis both winced, expecting the worst.

"I found the other encrypted files and opened them. Remember, Bill, when I told you I had been in DC at a special conference? I couldn't remember very much about it, but then I remembered the other night that I had taken some recordings and images, so I decided to look for them last night and try to decrypt them. I had encrypted them because at the time it was pretty sensitive stuff, and I also wasn't supposed to be keeping records of any of it. Anyway, I was at an emergency conference about the emerging Green Flu virus. At the time, we had just gotten the whole genome sequencing done on some viral samples. What was revealed at the conference was that this was no natural virus, but a highly engineered one. I, and many of the other scientists there, felt that this virus probably originated through the DoD. They've denied everything, of course, but the fact remains that this is a man-made virus designed to be used as a weapon. Even worse, it is designed to have a very high mutation rate itself, and also instills in its victims a high mutation rate. What this boils down to is that you have the common infected now, and the handful of specialized infected. But soon you will have many more different kinds of specialized infected as the mutations continue. Probably within a month, or less, there will be a new wave of various types of specialized infected. It also means that there may be no way to escape from them. They may not be able to swim or fly yet, but I have no doubt that they will be able to at some point. Even an island won't be safe from them. And because of the high mutation rate of the virus itself, it will probably be difficult to immunize against it successfully or eradicate it", she shook her head sadly, "I hate to say it, but I think we're in a losing battle here. Even if we make it to an island, it won't be long until they find us there. I'm sorry, I don't want to sound all doom and gloom, but I thought you should all know what we're up against. I've been wracking my brain all night trying to come up with a solution, and I've got nothing so far. If we still had the scientific manpower and access to the proper facilities, we might be able to slow it down and maybe eventually stop it. But we don't and we likely never will, so there you have it. Sorry…" she trailed off as she frowned down at her plate, pushing the food around distractedly.

The others just stared at her in mute disbelief. Bill swore, slamming his fist down on the table, startling them. "Goddamnit! How could they let something like this get out? Are you sure about this?"

She nodded. "The viral sequence makes it pretty clear. I recognize sections of rabies virus, herpes virus, selectable markers. If I had access to all my computers and lab equipment, I could probably come up with some way to eventually neutralize it, in time. But the scientific infrastructure is completely gone, I've got the viral sequence, but with me just going through it by hand, it's going to take a long time. I'm a freak genius at deciphering this stuff and picking out coding regions in sequence, but we're talking over half a million bases here."

Bill stopped her. "I didn't understand a word you just said there, except "freak genius". Do you think you could really do something to figure this virus out and deal with it?

She shrugged, as she answered, "Sure, Bill. Given enough time and resources, I could probably come up with something. I mean, I've built similar viruses for research purposes, so I know how it works. The problem is, we don't have either time or resources. The only ones that might are the government or military, and they're the jackasses that let this thing lose AND let it spread. Not to mention that they would exterminate all of us "carriers" the minute they got their hands on us. I'm not even certain that they're interested in eliminating this virus, I don't know what their ultimate goal is. Anyway, the bottom line is that I guess the island plan offers the most time before the mutations catch up to us."

Francis just stared at her with a worried look. He'd completely forgotten about how damn smart she was. She seemed like such a normal person when they talked and hung out together, he'd totally forgotten how out of his league she really was. Why she wanted to waste her time with somebody like him was a mystery. He didn't understand the first thing about what she was talking about with the virus thing, any more than Bill did. What he did gather is that they were way more screwed than they had thought they were and that the situation was beyond bad.

Bill interrupted their thoughts, "OK people, the island plan still sounds like our best bet. So let's get our gear together and get going. We need to find a sailboat today!"

They quickly gathered their things together and got ready to leave. Doc was pretty unhappy, nothing worse than having to put on still wet clothing. She couldn't help grumbling about it. Francis would normally joke with her about it to lighten the mood, but he had become suddenly quiet and withdrawn. She figured he was probably just upset about the depressing situation she had just revealed to them.

They headed out of the saferoom and started moving through the small port city in their usual formation with Doc scouting, Francis on point, followed by Bill and Zoey and Louis bringing up the rear and watching their six. After a short while, it became clear that Doc was not on her game at all. She blundered into 6 infected while exiting an alley, forcing Francis to dash up and help beat them off of her. Shortly after that she strayed from the group, after the others entered a garage to search it, and got jumped by a jockey zombie, which fortunately Louis was able to pick off quickly with his sniper rifle. Then she nearly walked right into a witch. Francis heard it wailing and noticed that Doc didn't seem to even be aware of it, he rushed up to her just in time to jerk her back away from it.

He shook his head and told her to stay behind him on point. Even that didn't work, as she stumbled straight into his back several times, when he stopped to check things or decide on a route. Finally, he sent her back to stay with Bill and Zoey.

She slunk dejectedly back to Bill and told him, "He says I'm a danger to myself and others, especially him. So I'm supposed to stay back here." She spent the remainder of the day blundering along with them, tripping over Bill and Zoey on occasion. Bill kept a close eye one her, she was clearly extremely distracted right now.

They took a short break in a fairly secure warehouse during the late afternoon, to grab something to eat. Francis was in a foul mood, he wasn't used to being on the hotspot by himself all day and his temper was beginning to fray. Doc went over to be with him, but he was terse and withdrawn from her.

She asked him what was wrong, but he just shook his head and frowned, moving away from her. He leaned against the wall, looking at the ground as he stewed over the situation. She couldn't be in love with him, he thought. She was just using him until someone better came along. What the hell would somebody like her want with someone like him, anyway? He was a thug, an outlaw, a complete idiot in comparison to her. It was so obvious, he'd been such a gullible idiot to think she really cared for him. She was miles above him and just playing him, he scowled deeply as he thought about it.

She stalked off and sat away from the group against the wall, hurt and confused. She had no clue what was wrong. One minute everything was fine, the next he didn't even want to talk to her. Maybe it was because she was having a bad day at scouting. It was only because her brain was on overdrive, thinking about the virus and what could be done to neutralize it. She sighed and leaned her head up against the wall. She knew she needed to forget about that and just focus on getting to the next saferoom, if she got herself killed, all of the mental acrobatics would be for nothing anyway. As for Francis, she would just have to find out what damned bug crawled up his butt once they made it to a safe spot.

When Bill called for them to get going again, she went back out in scouting position, ignoring the protests of Bill and Francis as she passed them. The hell with this shit, she thought sullenly, I hope something does try to pick me off, it'll either give me something to hack to bits or it can put me out of my fucking misery. She led them along the docks, past a cement factory and into some buildings. She cut down any infected in the way, leaving the bodies decapitated or cleaved nearly in two, ignoring Francis completely.

They crossed a wide channel of water, going around a small fishing vessel sunk in the shallows. Bill looked closely at the ship, noticing something familiar.

"Look, it's the Saint Lucia! The fishing vessel that picked us up at that boathouse, remember? Doesn't look like they got very far after they took our weapons and stranded us", Bill observed.

"Good enough for those bastards. I hope they rot in hell. They left us to die. If we hadn't found more weapons in that greenhouse, we would have been hosed", Francis growled, spitting at the boat. The boat owners had picked them up, then, as soon as they relaxed and started tending their wounds from the latest attack, had jumped them for their weapons. They wanted the firepower, but not the extra mouths to feed. They'd forced them overboard near shore, Francis damn near drowned. They stranded them their with the clothes on their backs and no weapons, it was sheer luck they found some more in that greenhouse.

They walked up a long ramp, shooting a small group of zombies stumbling around on it. They walked past several buildings, Doc indicated she wanted to go into a nearby brick building. She had noticed that there was a medical clinic in there and wanted to check it for supplies. She was able to find some antibiotics, antibacterial ointment and some pain meds and adrenaline shots.

They were just about to leave when a Boomer, lurking near the exit, puked all over Doc, Francis and Bill, who had been about to head out the door. They couldn't see a thing, as a horde started howling and pouring into the building. Louis and Zoey did their best to shoot the zombies off of them, but there were too many. Francis was pulled down into the horde, bellowing in pain as they tore at him. Doc lunged over to him, standing above him and cutting them down as fast as she could. She was just about to pull him up when a hunter, sneaking through the horde, pounced on her. It straddled her, tearing at her with its long claws. She had dropped the katana, she was finally able to kill it from the ground with her pistol, but not before it had managed to give her deep gashes on her abdomen. The others had finally finished off the horde, she lay on the ground for a moment, gritting her teeth as she tried to sit up. Francis appeared above her, his face filled with concern.

"Come on, it don't look so bad", he said as he helped her to her feet. She staggered up, holding her hand over the gashes. She looked over at him, he looked as bad as she did, bruised, bit and gouged. She put her arm around his waist, she wasn't sure who was holding who up at this point. Bill and Louis came to help, with Zoey covering them in case any straggling infected came along. They did a quick patch job on Francis, and tried to tape up the gashes on Doc, but they were bleeding too heavily for the tape to stick. The blood streamed thickly down as they tried to wrap them and staunch the flow.

Bill moved up to point position, leaving Doc and Francis holding each other up in the center with Zoey. They began to move along the street near a boatyard, when they heard it. The distinctive growl of a tank, followed by a roaring bellow. They all looked at each other in disbelief. This was going to be a disaster, with two of their group barely able to limp along, how the hell were they going to fight off a tank?

Doc pointed to a nearby ladder leading to a roof. They all climbed up it, looking around as they tried to spot the tank. Francis and Doc grabbed adrenaline shots and used them. Doc spotted the tank first, as it charged toward the building. She threw a Molotov down on it, setting it aflame, then opened up on it with the auto-shotty. Bill, Louis and Zoey joined in, peppering the tank with bullets. It howled and roared, climbing the building as they all scattered. From his position partway up some scaffolding, Francis opened up on the tank with the grenade launcher. There were only a few rounds left, they all hoped it would be enough. He managed to hit the tank with all 3 grenades. As it started to climb up the scaffolding to get at Francis, everybody else opened up on it and it slumped to the roof top dead. They all smiled tiredly at each other. Another tank down, and it never laid a paw on them. They were getting pretty good at this.

They limped their way down a street, spotting a safe-room sign. They made their way to the safe-room, thrilled to have made it through but discouraged about not having found a sailboat yet. The room had little left inside, some ammo clips and pipe bombs, but no food. Luckily they still had some supplies scavenged from the galley. Francis helped Doc into the safe-room, she staggered to a wall and slid down it, clutching her torn belly. Francis dumped their gear on the ground and started going through the medical supplies. They had suture material and needles, for stitches, but that was about it. They hadn't had lidocaine for a while now, they would just have to do without.

Bill got everything set up, then nodded to Francis. They helped Doc onto the table, gave her some pain meds and started cleaning the gashes. Several on the lower abdomen were really deep, Bill stuck his finger deep into the wounds, probing to make sure they hadn't gone all the way into the abdominal cavity. Sweat poured from her white face as she clenched her jaw tight, the pain was intolerable. Francis turned white, too. Seeing Bill's finger disappear deep into the wound, maybe into the abdominal cavity itself, was sickening. They both felt relieved when she finally passed out. Bill couldn't find anything perforating into the cavity, so he cleaned and then started stitching the deep wounds closed. Doc moaned and twitched, surfacing to consciousness briefly to gasp in pain as Bill stitched. Francis held her so she couldn't move, talking quietly to her. After it was finished and the wounds dressed, Bill gave her an antibiotic shot and they gently laid her down on some bedding. Bill cleaned up Francis' wounds and put antibiotic ointment on, he would be fine with some rest. After a short hesitation, Francis lay down next to Doc, covering her with more blankets.

Louis and Zoey made the meal with their meager supplies, Bill and Francis joined them for a quick dinner. Francis went back to bed, lying quietly next to Doc, lost in thought for some time before finally falling asleep. During the night, she awoke, gasping from the pain. The stitches pulled with a searing pain and the wounds themselves burned like hellfire. Francis woke to find her groaning, bathed in a cold sweat. He got some pain pills and helped her take them. He kissed her gently, she lay back with her head on his chest, and he held her until she was able to fall asleep again.

He couldn't get back to sleep for a while, bothered by the day's events. He had acted like such a jackass, being upset with her because of his own stupid insecurities. He was acting like they were going to have some sort of long-term relationship when there really was no such thing these days. If you found somebody to love during the apocalypse, you could count yourself lucky, but it might only be for weeks, days, maybe even just hours, until one or the other of you might be killed. Well, he thought ruefully, at least I got one thing right. I am way too stupid for her.


	23. Lost Souls

Author's Note: So this chapter brings the story through to the end of The Sacrifice. If you've enjoyed the story and characters, please be so kind as to leave a review/PM. I have more chapters, just debating on whether the interest is there for them or not. Thanks again to those of you who have given encouragement to this first time fiction writer!

They set off the next morning after a sparse breakfast, using up the remainder of their supplies. Doc was feeling a little bit better, Francis was happy to see her eat something at least. He got her some pain meds and helped put some antibiotic ointment on the gashes. They talked quietly together for a while, then he hugged her to him and kissed her gently. She hugged him back, a bit puzzled but glad that they seemed to have gotten past whatever was bothering him.

The saferoom opened out into a back alley, where a few infected lingered. Francis quickly disposed of them with his axe. They cut through a convenience store, where they found a few still edible items to stuff in their packs, the big find was a box of fig newtons, which Zoey discovered on the floor under a shelf. They left the store to find themselves in a small city with a bridge at the bottom. They walked down the hill toward the bridge, easily dispatching the few infected stumbling on the streets.

As they neared the bridge, Francis called excitedly, "Look! Hey, Bill, is that a sailboat? Why, yes it is!" They all looked toward where he was pointing, and sure enough there was a sailboat anchored on the inland side of the bridge. Bill examined the bridge, announcing that they would need to raise it in order to get the sailboat through to the open ocean. They realized they would need to start several nearby generators, in order to power the mechanism that raised and lowered the bridge.

"That's going to make a helluva racket, old man", Francis observed, as he eyed the generators and the bridge.

"Well, there's no choice, son", Bill replied. "Let's see what we've got to work with."

They went through their weapons supplies, they had a fair amount of ammo and some pipe bombs and several molotovs. They would use the pipe bombs in the event a large horde came at them, and reserve the molotovs in case a tank showed up.

First they would need to gas up the generators. They decided to split into two groups, Francis with Doc and Bill with Louis and Zoey to get it done faster. Doc and Francis found some containers of fuel down the street. As they were lugging it back, they heard screaming and gunfire from a big brick warehouse. They tossed the fuel containers near the generators and ran toward the sounds. The shooting had stopped, but they could still hear screaming. They spotted the others clustered near a set of stairs. Louis was on the ground, screaming as he clutched his leg. A dead witch lay nearby, she had apparently clawed his leg. Bill was trying to look at it, but Louis was clutching it and making it difficult to examine. Doc went over and carefully pried his hands away, while Francis gently restrained him. He stopped screaming and began moaning, as Bill and Doc examined the injury. It was pretty bad, the leg muscles were practically shredded, they could see the bone in a few places. They bandaged it as best they could and helped him up. He wouldn't be going too far or too fast in this condition. Francis looped his arm over his shoulder and helped him back to the bridge.

They gassed up the generators, and then started up the two generators further down the street simultaneously, then ran back to the one nearest the bridge to start that one. They took up positions with the bridge at their backs as Francis started the last generator up. It sputtered and roared, and the bridge mechanism groaned to life.

The noise of the generators and the bridge drowned out the rumbling and roaring rising throughout the surrounding streets. Soon infected were pouring into the streets and descending toward them in a nonstop wave. Francis, who had the best arm, threw the first pipe bomb. The zombies swarmed over it, the blast took out a massive number, but it was a drop in the bucket compared to those still coming at them. They began firing into the mass, as it closed around them, and soon it turned into a free-for-all as each survivor was surrounded and forced to fight for their life. Somebody managed to throw a pipe bomb, and they had a brief respite and rapidly regrouped. The horde began to build again as reinforcements arrived from throughout the area, and the bridge clanged open behind them. Francis climbed up to the control box and flipped the switch to raise the bridge, they all heaved a sigh of relief as the bridge creaked and groaned and finally began to ascend with an enormous rumble.

They had just started to relax, thinking they would soon be out of reach of the infected, when they heard a roaring and bellowing echoing through the streets. Looking down, they spotted a tank galloping toward the bridge. Francis manned a mini gun located on the upper level of the bridge and began shooting the large caliber weapon at the pink monstrosity. The others on the lower level with assault rifles began to shoot it as it climbed up the bridge toward them.

Suddenly, two terrible things happened simultaneously. The generator died, bringing the bridge to a grinding halt. Then, large hunks of concrete began to bombard them. They looked out to see three tanks charging down the street converging on the bridge, as another horde poured in to join them in the deadly chaos. Bill turned and stared. They needed to restart the generator, and whoever did it was going to die, it was a suicide mission with a horde and four tanks down there, three if they managed to kill the one trying to climb up. He looked back at his team, his little family, narrowed his eyes and jumped down. He lit a Molotov using his cigarette as he faced the rampaging tanks storming toward him and dashed it at the monstrous creatures.

They all screamed as Bill jumped down, they knew he had no chance, none at all. Louis grabbed Zoey as she attempted to follow Bill. Doc watched Bill leap down, horrified, then glanced up at Francis in panicked indecision. She couldn't let Bill go to his death like this, she sheathed her katana and got ready to jump down, maybe two could make it. Francis screamed at her wide-eyed, scrambling to slide down the ladder to the lower level, as Doc gave him a last look of heart-wrenching desperation before jumping after Bill.

She jumped down onto the top of a chain link fence with an overhang and threw her last pipe bomb to help clear the way for Bill, then began blasting shells from the auto-shotty into the tanks. It gave Bill the time to slip past them and go to the generator. He had just managed to get it fired up when a tank scored a direct hit with a chunk of concrete, knocking him to the ground. Doc jumped down from the fence, trying to haul him to his feet before the three remaining tanks bore down on them.

She never even saw the tank closing in behind her, one minute she was helping a dazed Bill to his feet, the next she was smashed and flying through the air, sailing into the small generator room to crash against a wall. Moments later, Bill came sliding through the same doorway, crashing into one of the giant generators, trailing an impossibly large slick of blood. She dragged herself up and stumbled toward him, as the light from the doorway was eclipsed by a tank. Bill fired the M16 briefly, as she pumped shell after shell into the creature from her shotgun. Glancing over at Bill, she saw he had fallen limp, his face completely white as he sat in a massive pool of blood. Her eyes filled with tears, as she struggled to reload fast enough to keep the tank at bay, her left arm dangling uselessly. The giant beast was starting to fold and would die soon. She grabbed Bill's M16 to finish it. His eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him as she said, "They made it Bill, they're safe. You did it."

A small smile crept to his lips. His duty was done, the others were safe. His only regret was that Doc had followed him down, but if anybody could make it out, he knew she could. A peaceful warmth seemed to envelope him as his last breath sighed out of him.

She fired the M16, backing away out of the room, as another of the tanks tried to push past its dead comrade and get at her. Once the M16 ran out of ammo, she reloaded the shotty, moving through a warehouse area as quickly as she could, looking for an escape. The howl of another approaching horde rose over the bellowing roars of the two surviving tanks. She looked around her in desperation for the best place to make a last stand.

She glanced out a window as she charged up the stairs in the warehouse and saw the river down below, not far from the foot of the building. She looked down at the horde swarming up the stairs toward her, then felt for the few shells left in her pocket. She pumped the rest of her shells into the horde and tank coming up the stairs. It turned out to be a surprisingly easy decision to make, jump and fall to her death or be torn apart by the horde. Tossing the shotty to the ground, she ran like hell for it and jumped.

Francis, Zoey and Louis stared at the scene unfolding below them in complete shock and disbelief. Louis had managed to finish off the tank trying to climb up with the assault shotgun, so that left only three tanks down on the ground. Only three, as if it would even be possible for two people to defeat that many. Francis was on his hands and knees, with Louis and Zoey clinging to him, as he stared down and watched Bill and Doc as they fought for their lives. The bridge was now too far above the ground for anybody to attempt to jump down. He was helpless to do anything but watch as Doc got batted out of sight and Bill was smashed down with the tank's giant fists, then batted like a broken plaything into the generator room.

At that point, they could only listen as the M16 chattered briefly and the shotgun boomed. The M16 went silent for a while, then started up again, the shotgun silent. Francis guessed that it was one person still firing, alternating the weapons for some reason. From the huge trail of blood left behind by Bill, he assumed it was Doc firing the M16 and shotgun. They heard and saw another horde stream into the generator building, as the bark of the shotgun grew infrequent and faint, finally dying away altogether. It was over. The remaining infected and one surviving tank wandered from the building and milled about below them.

They slumped to the bridge deck, completely numb. Francis was in shock, as he stared mutely down toward the generator building. Zoey was sobbing hysterically, while Louis lay on the deck trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. He felt like he was in a nightmare, sure that he would wake up to find that Bill and Doc were still alive. They stayed, frozen in utter despair, until it finally grew dark. All sense of direction, any hope to get out of this mess, had just been lost as their little team was hopelessly fractured.

Louis stirred first, dragging Zoey up as well. There was no moving Francis, he was still sitting slumped on the deck, staring toward the generator room. They draped some blankets over him and clustered nearby. Huddled together, Zoey and Louis talked in hushed tones. The infected had long since wandered away, forgetting about their prey above them on the bridge. They were sitting, blankets wrapped around them as they looked over the silent streets.

It all seemed so hopeless, none of them could even think about what they should do next. They were leaderless, drifting aimlessly without a clue as to their direction. Even worse, nobody wanted to lead. Francis was the oldest, but he didn't want the responsibility. It was one thing to make crappy decisions in his own life, it was an entirely different thing when his companions lives lay on the line. He had no intention of being responsible for leading them to their deaths. Neither Zoey nor Louis felt up to the task either.

As they watched, a large bonfire burst up near the generator rooms. As they watched the fire burn, they suddenly heard and then watched as shots exploded and rocketed from the fire. They looked on in amazement, it was like a little fireworks show. Francis sat up to stare at the sight. Shortly after, they heard a clatter on the bridge deck and heard a faint whistle. They rushed toward the sound, looking down in disbelief.

Doc had climbed up onto the second floor landing and was crouched there, trying to get their attention. She called to them, trying to be as quiet as possible, "Throw a line over! Quick!" She looked nervously around her, as she expected a horde to be attracted to the loud noise. Francis quickly dug through the pack and took out some climbing robe they had kept from the time they crossed that broken rope bridge. He tossed it down to her and got ready to belay. She tied it around her and called back, "You need to pull me up, I can't climb it, only one good arm!" She grabbed onto the rope and they all pulled, slowly hauling her up and over the edge. Francis rushed over as soon as she was safely on the deck, picking her up and hugging tightly.

She gasped in pain. "Easy on the ribs, think I broke some." She hugged him back carefully, squeezing him with her good arm. He finally released her, looking at her before scooping her up and carrying her over to lay her down on the blankets. She was soaking wet and shivering muscle spasms wracked her body.

"Bill?" he asked her. She sat up and shook her head and gestured toward the blaze they had just been watching. "His funeral pyre, and a makeshift 21 gun salute. Promised him I wouldn't let them eat him a while back. Can't break a promise like that", she replied sadly. "I messed up, I should have been able to save him. If I hadn't tried to help him up and drew the tanks away instead, maybe he would have survived" she shook her head, cursing her choice. "But he died with a smile, he knew you all were safe. He died fighting that tank, a warrior's death" she said quietly, tears running down her face. Zoey was crying too, Louis and Francis just nodded sadly. Francis turned away quickly to rub at something that got in his eye.

He turned back and gently hugged her to him and said, "You did everything you could and then some. It's not your fault, ok? Bill made his decision, he knew exactly what he was doing. But don't you ever do anything like that again. Promise me?"

Her mouth crooked into a small wry smile, "Absolutely. I promise you I will never leap off a bridge into a horde and multiple tanks, ever, ever, again. OK? Unless it's to go help you, of course."

He just snorted and shook his head. "Well, I guess it's a start, anyway. You're crazy, you know that, right?"

She just gave a dry chuckle. "Yeah, that's pretty much old news to anyone who's known me for more than a few weeks. You really know how to pick 'em, buddy." She smiled up at him, drew his head down and kissed him, he kissed her back, clutching her to him. Zoey and Louis turned and moved a little bit away to give them some space.

He pulled away and held her out from him, turning on his flashlight to get a better look at her wounds. She had some scratches and bites, some deep bruising from the tank, probably cracked or broken ribs and what looked like a broken or dislocated shoulder. The stitches that Bill had put in got ripped out, she had made a temporary repair with some duct tape she'd spotted in the warehouse and grabbed on her return to the bridge. He probed the shoulder carefully, he was sure it was a dislocation. He could put it back, he'd done it before. In his line of business, fixing such injuries yourself rather than going to a hospital was a necessity.

She didn't want him to mess with the pulled stitches, maybe later when they were in a better position to deal with it. She got out of her wet clothes and wrapped herself in a blanket. Then she wanted to look at Louis' leg, she didn't like what she was seeing at all, it was badly shredded. Francis cleaned it up, put antibiotic ointment on it, and gave Louis a shot of antibiotics. She oversaw all of this and only then did she allow Francis to try to put the shoulder back in. She knew how much it was going to hurt and thought she might pass out, depending on how hard it was to get back in. Francis held her down with one hand, then jerked and twisted the arm to pull it back into the socket. Doc groaned in sheer agony and at the second pull she passed out cold. Once she was unconscious, Francis had an easier time pulling the arm back into the socket and was soon done. He quickly dressed the other wounds, wrapped her in the blankets and lay down next to her. He felt completely drained, like he'd just finished running a marathon. He slung a protective arm over her and fell almost instantly into a deep sleep.

Zoey and Louis settled down nearby, Louis to sleep and Zoey to sit on watch for a few hours. She woke Francis for the next shift and after grumbling a bit he finally got up and stood watch. With a blanket wrapped around him, he watched the dawn come up in a red haze. He immediately thought of the old saying, "Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning. Red sky at night, sailors delight". It didn't look like this would be a day favoring sailing.


	24. Passing Through

_She staggered to her feet, it was pitch dark all around her and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She wasn't alone, she felt another presence nearby. She grabbed for her katana in its sheath across her back. A moment of panic gripped her when she realized it wasn't there. She quickly felt for her other weapons, cold fear coursed through her when she realized all her weapons were missing. She stood stock still, listening carefully, trying to figure out where she was, what was in there with her and how she could get the hell out of there._

_A flame flared in front of her as a cigarette was lit and the match was shaken out, the smell of the cigarette smoke drifted over her. His grizzled face contemplated her above his cigarette as he spoke to her. "You don't need those, relax. That's not what's important. It's time to step up to the plate. You're in charge, they'll look to you now."_

_She stared at him for a moment, this felt so real and different from other dreams. But it had to be a dream since Bill was gone. Well, whatever the hell this was, she guessed she might as well answer him. She took a deep breath and sighed as she shook her head. "No, Bill. I don't want it. I'm ok doing my own thing but I don't want to make decisions for everyone. Francis can lead, he's been with the team longer, he has a bond with Zoey and Louis."_

_He puffed on the cigarette, the end glowing brightly for a moment, she could see him frowning at her. "It's not about what you want, it's about what they need. You need to trust those around you, they'll help you do the right thing, make good decisions. Trust them."_

_She shook her head again and wrapped her arms around herself. She noticed that there was no shoulder pain, no painful stitches, no bullet wounds to distract and torment her. "I trust me, myself and I and that's about it. It's always been that way, anything else has led to nothing but bitter disappointment and disaster. They're good people, but I trust nobody, not even Francis. Sorry, but I'm not leader material."_

_He snorted, she could see puffs of smoke coming from his nose as his eyes narrowed and pinned her in their gaze. "You don't even trust yourself! Oh, you lay down a good game, and your tough act puts Francis' to shame. Why do you feel there's still something to prove, anyway? And who are you trying to prove it to? They're all dead, you know."_

_"That's bullshit! You don't know that!" She glared at him angrily. It wasn't true, they could still be alive. It was one of the few things left to cling to and he seemed to be happily stomping on that one spark of hope._

_He casually flicked the ash from the cigarette, then took another deep drag causing the ember to glow brightly. "I do know quite a bit now. One of the few benefits of being in my current condition. I know that you and Francis are practically mirror images of each other. I never understood what you two had in common, thought it was all just a physical thing, but now I see you're damn near twins, forged from the same fire."_

_"Then why not Francis? He'll be better at it than me. I'm a good second in command, not the leader. Trust me, I'm not cut out for this leader shit. It'll be a fucking disaster. You don't know me, I expect too much from other people and it always goes sideways!" She started to pace anxiously, running her hand through her hair._

_He flicked the cigarette away, the small glowing end flew through the darkness and burst into bright sparks that scattered into the void. A small line of light appeared behind him and began to elongate and widen. He glanced back and she could see his familiar profile, beret and all._

_"You'll lead, or none of you will make it. They need you and you need them. Keep them together, whatever you do. Leave nobody behind. Nobody. You go back for your own, no matter the odds. Got that? I gotta go, I'm outta time. Don't forget what I've told you and don't make me come back to kick your ass into gear, this ain't as easy as it looks..."_

_His voice seemed to grow distant as he passed into the white line of light. The light flared briefly and then disappeared, leaving her alone in the pitch black._

_"Bill? Bill! How the hell do I get out of here? Bill! Get the fuck back over here!" Suddenly she felt a falling sensation and realized she was falling through the dark, plummeting swiftly some unknown distance. She landed with a jarring impact and her whole body twitched hard as she convulsed back into consciousness._

She jolted awake. It was light out and her injuries screamed with pain, every muscle in her body was clenched tight and she was drenched in sweat. She lay still as she tried to relax and breathe, the dream still so vivid in her mind that she could swear she still smelled cigarette smoke.

The way the others looked at her, puzzled and shocked, she realized they must have heard some of the stuff she just yelled in her dream. Francis stood nearby, frowning, interrupted from rooting through the packs. Looking for food, probably. Louis and Zoey stood next to him, looking curiously at her.

She wrapped a blanket around herself and got to her feet to see whether her clothes were dry yet. They were still damp, but she put them on and wrapped herself in a blanket. Hopefully it would dry with body heat. She joined the others as Francis continued to search through the packs.

They found little food for breakfast, they split the fig newtons and other small snacks they had picked up at the convenience store the other day.

Doc started the discussion, reluctantly stepping into the leadership role. It was clear that nobody else wanted the job either. The sight of them looking so hopefully up at her made her feel sick. Shit! Talk about misplaced faith, she thought to herself. She wiped a hand across her face and began. "OK, so we've managed to get the bridge up. Next, we need to deal with the sailboat. Does anybody know anything about sailing?"

They all looked at each other, shaking their heads. Doc was the only one who had ever sailed, and she had only sailed little sunfish boats, not a large boat like that. Doc swore vehemently, they hadn't even considered that their whole plan revolved around Bill's ability to sail the boat. She had no idea how to navigate, either. Louis thought he could probably do that part of it, but he wasn't certain. So they were already in trouble on the very next step of Bill's plan.

"All right, so maybe I can figure out how to sail it and maybe Louis can help with navigation. How are we going to actually get on the boat? Who here can swim?" Doc asked. Francis admitted to being a non-swimmer, while Zoey offered that she knew the dog paddle, but that was it. Louis was the only one besides Doc who could actually swim. Doc stared at them in disbelief and gave a humorless laugh, "Wow, we really didn't think this one through. Unless we can find a rowboat or small tender, we'll have trouble getting everyone on the boat to begin with…All right, the first thing is to get on there and see what the deal is with this boat. I guess I'm going, Louis is absolutely out, with his leg."

Francis didn't agree with that at all, since it involved Doc going back down there all by herself and swimming to the boat. She argued with him for a while, then said, "Look, unless you have a better plan, I don't see any other alternative. It's pretty quiet, I should be able to get down to the edge of the river, you can still cover me from up here. I'm not excited about doing it either, but I don't see any other way. Besides, I need to have a look at it to see whether there is any way I can operate it."

She put on her still wet t-shirt and shorts and they lowered her down. She made her way to the river to the spot where it would be the shortest swim to the boat. After taking her boots off, she dove in and immediately started struggling with the current. Her injured shoulder and ribs prevented her from swimming very well and it took a while before she actually was able to board the sailboat. She disappeared inside, while the others watched tensely. Eventually she emerged dragging some bags. She grabbed several floating boat bumpers and tied them to the bags. Tossing them off the stern, she jumped in after them and struck out for the shore, dragging the floats. After a difficult swim, she finally made it. She shoved on her boots, took the bags off the floats and practically staggered back to the bridge. She had them raise the bags, then followed them up. She lay on the bridge deck, panting, too exhausted to even sit up. Francis went over and pulled her to a sitting position as they gathered around.

She shook her head grimly, "I think we need a new plan. There are several issues. First of all, it's taking on water, it will probably be sunk within the week. It has a bilge pump, but no battery left. Secondly, I looked at the controls and have no confidence I can sail it, I have no idea what some of that stuff is or how it works. I would probably run it aground before we even got out of this river channel. Thirdly, the engine used to push it through the channel is toast, it caught a stray bullet at one point. So the boat would have to be tacked up the entire channel and I'm telling you straight out, I doubt I can do it. Not to mention it's a tough swim out there, the river current is strong and a non-swimmer has no chance at making it. Maybe with sufficient flotation, but even then there's a good chance they could be swept out with the current. I didn't see any tenders or rowboats around at all. So there you have it, I think this boat is one big fail."

She shivered, her only clothes soaking wet again, as she staggered to her feet. Wrapping a blanket around herself, she stripped off the wet clothes and hung them to dry over a beam, hoping they wouldn't get blown away. Completely exhausted, she lay back down to rest and think. In spite of her best intentions, she fell fast asleep.

The rest of the group mulled over the news and discussed what their options might be. They opened the bags that Doc had brought over from the boat. They contained a variety of food supplies and a small propane camping stove. At least they would be able to make something to eat and wouldn't starve to death. Francis, who was ravenous, started working on the meal. With the exception of Doc, who was still sleeping, they sat down and ate their fill. Canned ravioli, hash and canned brown bread, toasted on the little grill. They tore through it, saving some aside for Doc. Francis went to nap next to her, the heavy meal had made him really sleepy. Soon Zoey was the only member of the group still awake.

She was leaning on the bridge railing, thinking about Bill, when she heard the roar of a car engine and the squeal of tires. She went to investigate and found four survivors getting out of some kind of stock race car on the far side of the bridge. Three guys and one girl, just like their group. They looked up to the bridge and spotted her.

The guy in the white suit yelled up to her "Hey, can you lower the bridge?"

Zoey shook her head, "Sorry, no can do. Generator's out, you would need to get over on the other side and refuel it."

The man shook his head in irritation, "Listen, sweetheart, is there a man up there we can talk to?"

She glared down at him. "Oh, poor lil' ole me, I don't know what to do", she said in her best helpless female imitation. "Bite me, Colonel Sanders", she continued, gruffly.

The woman spoke next, "Sorry about him, look, can you help us?"

Zoey crossed her arms and answered her, "If you get to the other side, we can lay down cover fire for you while you gas up the generator."

The young man in the yellow t-shirt spoke up next, "Hi, I'm Ellis, some folks call me El. I don't really like that, 'cause it sounds like a girl's name, but I reckon you can call me El if you want to. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen…" He trailed off, twisting his hat, as his teammates laughed and moved away. She shook her head, blushing at the compliment. He turned away red-faced as his companions teased him over his rather obvious attraction to her. Zoey went to wake the others and tell them they had company.

Francis was less than thrilled that Zoey had told the strangers they would lower the bridge. "Jesus Christ, we just got it up and Bill died and Doc nearly did to do it! Plus we don't have a plan, what do we do when the bridge is down and the horde and tanks have access to us again? I say no, not just no, hell no!"

Doc woke up, finally, after hearing Francis' angry voice. She contemplated the news carefully. A new group of survivors was a wild-card she had never considered. She put in her two cents once Francis finished. "Let's see if they actually make it to the other side first. I'm not crazy about lowering the bridge, but we'll have to do it sometime, we can't stay up here forever. I think the sailboat plan is a no go, and unless we can find another intact power boat and fuel, I think we need to consider other options. I picked up a map from that convenience store, when we went through it. It looks like there are several islands with land bridges near the Keys. If we can find one, destroy the bridge, we'll be on an isolated island without having to boat there. They are at least 200 miles away though. Maybe we can convince these new people to come with us, drive there in the car if the road is passable. Anyway, that's the only plan I've been able to come up with so far."

Francis frowned, he still didn't like the idea of putting the hard-won bridge down. He didn't have a better plan than the one Doc was proposing, though. Eventually they agreed to wait and see if the newcomers managed to make it to the other side and gas up the generator. They would help them, then lower the bridge and see whether they wanted to join up and drive to the island. If not, they would just have to strike out for it on foot.

Doc helped herself to the leftover food. She ate as much as she could then went straight back to rest some more. Her energy had been seriously depleted, ever since the hunter had jumped on her and slashed her, she had really been struggling to keep going. The pain from those wounds wore her down, the fight with the tanks and escaping from the horde, plus the swim this morning had wiped out her last reserve of energy. She felt so worn down she could sleep for days straight. Francis came over and lay down next to her, she kissed him sleepily and curled against him, placing her hand on his side, quickly falling back to sleep.

Francis was worried about her, she really seemed totally exhausted, and they kept putting heavy demands on her. She was badly wounded, literally duct taped together. The shoulder injury was serious and even with it put back in joint, it would need weeks to fully recover. And what do they do? They make her do a grueling swim, while they sit there and watch! He wanted to take on more of the load, just to get it off of her. They needed her to be healthy, or the team wouldn't have much chance, she was their leader now. He hugged her close, trying to warm her. He dozed off again, after wondering whether they would find a safe-room soon where they could camp out and recharge a little bit.

They had another filling meal for dinner, Francis got up and heated some chili up, they had crackers to go with it and a big can of apricots. Doc woke up and joined them. They talked quietly for a while, she showed them the map she had found and they decided to go to the nearest island first.

After that, Francis wanted to have a look at her pulled stitches and put in more if needed. She took a heavy dose of pain meds, as Francis got the supplies ready. By the time he was ready, her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to be pretty groggy. He tried to slowly peel the tape off, but Doc begged him to just rip it off, it was gonna hurt like hell either way, she'd just as soon get it over with. She bit down on a corner of the blanket as he ripped the tape off, the blanket helped muffle the howl of pain. She almost lost consciousness right then and there. It was a mess, once again bleeding heavily, the whole thing would need to be sutured back up. Without lidocaine, again. Louis and Zoey came over to help hold her down as Francis stitched. He was the only one besides Bill and Doc who had experience putting stitches in. He started stitching slowly and carefully, it was always hard to work on a person twitching and shuddering in pain. Louis and Zoey did their best to hold her still, he could see they were really shaken by the whole ordeal, it had always been Bill, Francis or Doc who dealt with this sort of thing and they weren't used to the blood and watching somebody in such pain.

Luckily for everyone, she passed out before he had even finished the first slash. It was much easier for everyone after that. He finished as quickly as he could, then coated all of her wounds with antibacterial ointment and bandaged them. He gave her an antibiotic shot as well, and bundled her up as she remained unconscious. After treating Louis' leg and bandaging it again, Francis turned in. He curled next to Doc, gently stroking her side. He still could barely believe she was back next to him, he'd been sure he would never see her alive again. He soon fell asleep, her head tucked under his chin.

Francis had the last watch of the night, the one he preferred since he could spend some of the boring time making breakfast. The others preferred he take that watch anyway, none of them had that much interest in cooking, and looked forward to his breakfasts. He was able to whip together some pancakes with honey, and fried up some spam to go with it. Louis and Zoey soon woke up, and they ate and started prepping their weapons, filling clips and making sure they were all clean and dry. Doc remained sleeping, not surprising considering her weakened state. Francis wasn't sleepy, but he went over and lay next to her, waiting for her to wake up. He hoped she was feeling better and had recovered some energy, if they had to make a run for it later she would need it.

They soon started to hear gunfire, so Francis woke her up and got her to eat something while he packed up their gear. It sounded like the strangers had made it across and would soon be ready to refuel the generator. Shortly after that, the strangers showed up at the bridge.

Francis was shocked to recognize one of the group. Still irritated at the prospect of lowering the bridge, he spoke to the guy in the white suit, "Hey brother, I wouldn't think a fancy ass like you would survive something like that!"

The man snarled back at him, "That's funny…because I figured you lazy assholes would still be here."

Francis growled back at him, "Go to Hell, Suit!"

Zoey interrupted this pleasant little chat, "Boys, boys! Come on, let's try to get along, ok? You need to take that elevator down, then find fuel and fill the generator. As soon as it's full, fire it up and we'll take care of the rest, OK?

The strangers took the elevator down and started looking around for gas. They broke up into two teams, hunting for the gas and pouring it into the generator. As soon as they fired their weapons, the familiar howl of the horde could be heard from several directions.

Francis and Zoey positioned themselves on the upper porch walkway, Francis had the AA12, while Zoey was using the sniper rifle. Doc had her auto-shotty, recovered on her return trip back through the warehouse, loaded up and ready for any infected that came into range, and the Desert Eagle for longer range shooting. Louis had his assault shotgun, but wasn't expected to shoot much. He could barely even stand, but if a tank came close enough he wanted to be ready. He was really worried about what would happen once the bridge was down, he would definitely need Francis' help to get anywhere. He hoped the big ape didn't go down, or he would be dead meat. No, that's not going to happen, he tried to reassure himself. He was the toughest bastard he knew, plus Doc would never let that happen, right?

They were busy for the next 20 minutes, picking off any infected that came in range. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, they were never at much risk, since the common infected couldn't reach them and they saw few specialized infected. The new group worked well together and did a good job of decimating the ranks of the horde. They were nearly done filling the generator when the first chunk of concrete came flying down the road. A tank was running down the little hill toward the strangers, as they stood near the generator. Zoey repeatedly drilled it with her rifle, as Francis opened up on it with the shotgun once it came close enough. They all concentrated fire at it, bringing it to its knees until it finally died. The generator was started and the bridge began to lower, as the newcomers waited for the ramps to come down, another tank appeared. Between the two groups, the tank didn't stand a chance, it was cut down before it came within striking distance.

They all gathered near the car. The older gentleman, who introduced himself as "Coach", asked them if they wanted to come with them. They were headed to a military evac zone in New Orleans that they had heard about.

"Don't," Doc advised them, "they're killing any carriers. If you actually make it that far, they're just going to throw you in a cell and then kill you. They consider us a danger to any uninfected that must be eradicated. Trust us, been there, done that. We're headed to an island, why don't you come with us? It's much closer than New Orleans, and we would be isolated from the infected once we get rid of the land bridge."

The guy in the filthy suit sneered at her, "That's a load of bullshit. You want us to believe that the military would bother to rescue you, then exterminate you? And that you actually escaped from a military prison? You're full of it, what's your angle, anyway?"

Doc shrugged and replied, "No angle, just trying to keep you people from going like sheep to slaughter."

The other group went off to discuss it amongst themselves. When they returned, Coach spoke, "We're gonna try New Orleans, you're welcome to come with us."

Doc shook her head sadly, "All right, I think you're making a big mistake, but best of luck to you. I'm never going near the military again, if I can help it."

The newcomers piled into the car and with a squeal of tires, were gone, leaving them on the lowered bridge, feeling abandoned and discouraged. They started walking down the street, dejectedly heading south.


	25. The Long and Winding Road to Hell

Thankfully, the most recent horde had been eradicated and none seemed to follow them across the bridge. They trudged slowly along, going at a fairly slow pace due to Louis' injury. Francis was helping him along, Louis' arm over his shoulder, but it was still painfully slow. Finally, Doc asked Francis if he could piggyback Louis, if she took his pack, because otherwise they were never going to get anywhere. Francis reluctantly agreed. It wasn't because he couldn't carry Louis for a while, but he was concerned that Doc would have to carry the heaviest pack and with her injuries it would be too hard on her.

They made better time then. Luckily for them, they came across very few infected. They found many abandoned cars along their route and searched through them as they went, picking up some supplies and occasionally ammo. The next small town was miles away. Under normal circumstances that should only take them a few hours, even with their frequent stops to search vehicles. If the road were clear, they could have taken one of the vehicles and just driven there, Doc thought to herself as she trudged along under her heavy load. Oh well, the stock car wouldn't have helped them anyway, even if the others had decided to go with them. They would have still ended up on foot.

After nearly six hours, they finally found themselves on the outskirts of a little town. It seemed eerily abandoned, not a living thing in sight and no cars cluttering the street. They looked in vain for signs of a safe-room, but finding none decided to hole up in the first secure building they could manage to get into. They tried a bank, but couldn't manage to break in, even using their weapons. They came across a small sporting goods store and Doc was bound and determined to get in there. She hoped there might be ammo, maybe another bow for her and more importantly, some clothes, hopefully some underwear. She was so chafed from the salty, wet clothing that every step was a painful reminder. The heavy pack was digging in, too. She didn't know how the hell Francis could stand it, her back was screaming in protest by the time they hit the town. The others didn't look much better. Francis was exhausted from carrying a full grown man for miles. Zoey was exhausted too, she had Louis' pack and her own to lug around. Louis didn't even look that great, even though he had been carried most of the way.

Once they got into the store and barricaded the entrance, everyone dropped their burdens with a groan. The little store had bars over the windows and was secure, so they could relax a little bit. They threw their loads down and spread through the store, looking for items they could use. Francis went straight toward the area with guns and ammo, but was disappointed to find little. It seemed the owner either sold out or removed those items. Zoey and Louis went looking for survival gear, picking up a compass and new flashlight. Doc made a beeline for the clothing section. She was thrilled to find some underclothing, some men's thigh length thermal underwear and a sports bra. She was able to get another sweatshirt, t-shirts and shorts and some new socks to replace her shredded ones. She also found some hiking boots that fit her. She could finally ditch the too big military boots she'd been stuck with since their escape from the compound, her feet would be thankful for that. She picked some socks and shorts and tank tops up for Francis and found a lined flannel shirt that would fit him. She chuckled, he would really look like a true cracker now.

They found a small kitchen area, including a small bedroom in back. Francis dragged their pack into the little bedroom, he was determined to have a little privacy finally. He rooted through the pack and dug out their remaining food supplies, then searched through the kitchen and turned up a few more things. Doc returned with the clothing and changed into a dry t-shirt and shorts and went out to work on Louis' leg. She didn't like the way it was looking. It hadn't gone septic, but it wasn't really healing either. She searched through the kitchen and bathroom areas and turned up some hydrogen peroxide. She cleaned the leg with a diluted hydrogen peroxide solution, then repeated that several times. She packed it with antibiotic ointment and bandaged it, then gave him another antibiotic shot. She gave herself one too, while she was at it.

Francis had dinner ready by the time she was done. They had a variety of sports drinks and energy drinks to choose from and rehydrated chicken teriyaki with rice, chips and trail mix and even freeze-dried ice cream. It was a welcome little feast after a depressing day. After eating they quickly set the watch shifts and retired to their bedding.

Francis took his vest and shirt off and stretched his aching back, as shooting pains spread to his rear, carrying Louis around was literally a pain in his ass. Doc came up behind him, pushing her thumbs firmly into his lower back, massaging the cramping muscles. He groaned as she stretched out the knotting muscles. She patted the bed, motioning him to lie down. Once he did, she continued the massage on his lower back, then moved up his spine, gradually releasing the tension, until she got to his gargantuan shoulders, kneading them with her strong fingers. She was good at it, he felt much more relaxed and the pain was gone. She kissed him on the back of his neck and then lay down next to him. He turned toward her, trying to return the favor, he massaged her shoulders, moving lower until he got to her lower back. He just started to rub and she groaned in pain.

"Sorry, major back spasm", she said between gritted teeth. After taking some pain meds, the spasm finally subsided. He massaged it gently, for the first time he noticed that there was some sort of scarring barely visible on her lower back and asked about it.

"Broke it, a long time ago. Riding accident, the horse kind. That's from some of the surgery. And that's why my lower back is such a mess. It's my weakest point, I've rehabbed it pretty well, but it's never going to be 100%", she told him as she struggled to find a comfortable position. When it acted up, even laying flat was painful.

He shook his head, "You should have said somethin'. You can't carry that pack, it must have been agonizing."

She shrugged her shoulders, "It's uncomfortable carrying weight, but it doesn't get truly agonizing until afterwards when everything starts stiffening up. As long as I keep going, I'm OK. It's when I stop that I start to really feel it. For stuff where I have to use my back a lot, I've learned to just keep going until I can't take it anymore, because I won't be able to do it again once I stop."

"Anyway, it's ok. So where were we?" she turned over and drew him down for a kiss. It had been a while since they'd had any kind of time alone together and they didn't want to waste one second of it. In spite of their exhaustion,neither one wanted to stop. Finally, they were forced to, because Doc's shift had come up, and Zoey was knocking at the door. She kissed him and wriggled away to get dressed, "Go to sleep…I'll be back and we can finish then. Love you." She leaned over and gave him a long kiss as she left. He grinned sleepily at her, she was seriously going to kill him, but it was so totally worth it. He was snoring by the time she hit the door.

Her shift passed uneventfully, she spent most of the time going through files on the iPad, trying to memorize some of the files, in case she ever lost it or it got damaged. She was actually kind of shocked she still had the little device and that it still functioned. It was a little beat up, but so far had been working perfectly. She woke Louis for the next shift and went back to the bedroom. She slipped back into bed, curling against Francis, who was snoring loudly, deeply asleep. She didn't wake him, he just looked too comfortable and almost happy, his face relaxed and innocent looking. He shifted and wrapped his enormous arm over her, mumbling in his sleep. She settled into him, she was so used to sleeping with his arm around her or spooned up against him that she wasn't sure if she could ever manage to sleep alone again. It took her a while to fall back to sleep, images of the files flashing through her brain. She sighed, trying to stuff them to the back of her mind. Photographic memories were damned handy, but sometimes a real bitch to control. Eventually she fell asleep, even though the images were still flashing away.

She woke up with a roaring howl, bolt upright in the bed. Her heart was hammering, it felt like it was going to leap out of her throat, and she was soaked in sweat. Francis was missing and she felt a moment of panic. The door slammed open as he burst through it, concern etched across his face.

"What the hell?! What's wrong?!, he asked as he whirled around looking for a threat.

"Nothing…nothing…it's ok", she managed to say as she gasped for breath. "Bad dream, sorry." Shaking her head, she wished she could shake the images out of it.

He sat next to her. "Since when do you have bad dreams? You usually sleep like the dead, I've never seen anything like this before."

She shrugged as she tried to will her heart to beat slower. "It's probably because I was memorizing stuff last night, sometimes it makes a lot of memories and images start popping."

He wrapped an arm around her, hugging her to his side. "So what was it about?"

She shook her head, trying to push it all deep down. "Just stuff with Bill, the generator room, tanks, the warehouse. After Bill died, I felt helpless and actually scared, to the point where I couldn't even think straight, I felt like a trapped animal. I ran up the stairs in the warehouse, with a horde and a tank only steps behind me. I ended up jumping through the window on the third floor, rather than be torn to shreds. I thought I was jumping to my death. Thought I was either going to die if I hit the ground or drown for sure, with my wrecked shoulder, if I actually managed to make it to the water. Anyway, that's never happened to me before, the completely helpless feeling, the raw fear. The images bring it all back. Have you ever had that happen to you?" Just thinking about it made her heart start hammering again. He noticed that she began to breath rapidly again, her stress level looked like it was going through the roof. He held her close, gently rubbing her arm as he tried to calm her.

He grimaced, thinking about some of his own nightmare images. The charger on the bridge, and on the gravel ship, the image of her giving him that look and jumping down after Bill. Now he would have another one as he imagined her jumping out of a third floor window. "Yeah", he sighed "But eventually it goes away. It just takes a long time. C'mon, get dressed, breakfast is almost ready. I gotta go finish up." He got up and pulled her to her feet.

"Yeah, ok. Just let me wash up first and get some dry clothes on". She headed for the small bathroom. They had discovered last night that the place had working water, hot water, and most of the kitchen appliances and lights worked, so it must have a gas generator of some kind still running. She quickly bathed and washed her hair, using the only bar of soap she could find. Ivory, yuck. She hated Ivory soap, always gave her a rash. Beggars can't be choosers, she reminded herself in resignation as she soaped up.

She joined the others for breakfast and they quietly ate and had some coffee. Doc half expected the smell of cigarettes to immediately follow, she'd been conditioned by Bill, she thought ruefully. She sighed, wishing she could rewind the clock. After breakfast, they discussed their plans for the day. They unanimously decided to take at least one day to rest up before striking out on the next leg of the trip. Doc and Francis would go out and search around the town to see if they could turn up any useful supplies, weapons or ammo. Louis would have to stay at the store and Zoey could stay with him, in case he needed any help. One of the main reasons Doc had for going out scavenging was to try to find medical supplies in a last ditch effort to save Louis' leg. It wasn't improving, and this might be their last shot at doing something for him.

They geared up and headed out, moving quietly through the empty streets. They were looking for med supplies, ammo and food. They came across a hardware store, which Francis easily broke into, kicking the door in. They found some shotgun shells in a cupboard, but not much of anything else on their list. They moved further down the street, locating a small library, town hall and police station. They went over to the police station, the door was metal and sturdy, but Francis simply shot the hinges off and pushed the door aside. They were able to pick up some more ammo and a couple of side arms and clips. They scored a bottle of scotch from one of the desks and some ramen noodles and coffee from the break room. They broke open a snack machine and stuffed the contents in a bag. Back on the streets, they came to a small clinic. A large window had already been broken, they just hopped through it. The place had been ransacked, maybe by people looking for drugs, because they hadn't bothered with basic medical supplies. Doc found almost everything she was looking for. Grabbing a garbage bag, she stuffed it full of supplies. They left the clinic and walked to the other end of town, finding a small grocery store on the way. It too had been ransacked, nearly everything edible had been taken out of it. They managed to find a few overlooked items, including a whole case of baked beans. Francis shouldered the case. She looked at him, eyebrow arched, "You must want to sleep solo, Mister. That stuff could kill us in an enclosed area." He just shrugged and gave her his lop-sided grin. With a resigned sigh she followed him back out into the street.

Just up the street she spotted what she was looking for and headed that way. Francis snorted when he figured out her destination.

"Seriously? Isn't it a bit early for that?" he groused as he lugged the case and the bag of snacks.

"Don't know about you, but there is no such thing as too early for me. Not since the world turned to shit, anyway. I wasn't planning on drinking now anyway, just thought we could bring some with us." She shoved open the broken door and entered the bar. It too had been heavily ransacked. She found a couple of bottles of flavored liqueurs, but that was it. She noticed a back room to the bar and poked her head into it. From the stench she had detected, she knew what to expect, but even then it was a shock. Eight people dead and decaying inside, it looked like they had all been shot dead, the interior of the room was pocked with bullet holes. She noted some of the people had been wearing motorcycle gear, which gave her another idea. Motioning to Francis, she went out the back door of the bar.

In spite of the grim circumstances, she couldn't help but smile. Arranged neatly in the back alley were four motorcycles.

Francis dropped the stuff he was carrying and went over to check them out. They all seemed completely intact, loaded with gear and food. He checked the gas tanks, finding them all full. They had really hit the jackpot this time.

They decided to drop off the supplies they had found back at the sporting goods store, then come back for the bikes. They made two trips, quietly wheeling the motorcycles back to the sporting goods store. They brought them inside the store to work on them. Zoey and Louis came out to check out their new transportation, looking on as Doc and Francis inspected them and tried them out.

Francis sat on the bike he had chosen, it was similar to one he used to own, a Harley Fatboy with ape hangers. He felt right at home on it. He glanced over at Doc, he already knew which one she was going to go for, and it wasn't one of the other cruisers.

She carefully checked out the bright red Ducati, wishing she could take it for a little joy ride right now. This was a bike that would have given the Buell a run for its money, on the short stretch and maybe in the mountains. She adjusted the gas shock to lower it a bit and threw a leg over, it would be fun to see what it could do. She turned to Francis with a big grin, "This thing will run circles around that heavy beast."

Francis shrugged and grunted. "Maybe so, but after a few hours of riding, you're gonna be begging to switch with me. That crotch rocket is gonna chap your ass but good."

"Only if I hang around with you slowpokes, maybe I'll just gun it and wait somewhere for you to catch up." She pretended to crouch behind the windshield in a racing position.

"Better not, or I'll chuck that European piece of crap off the nearest cliff and make you ride bitch with me. We only really need two cruisers, and don't you forget it." He cast a mischievous grin her way.

"Don't even think about it, I'm already in love with this thing. Anyway, I've never ridden bitch in my life and I'm not about to start now. If the Duc goes down, you'll be the passenger, not me." She gave him a grin of her own.

Francis just snorted a laugh. The image of him riding as a passenger behind her was just too funny. It was an idle threat anyway, she wasn't anywhere near tall enough to handle the ape hangers on his new bike.

Doc left Francis to work on the bikes and see whether they needed anything. They didn't need to pop the ignitions because they had recovered the keys from the bodies inside the bar. The next item on the agenda was to work on Louis' leg.

She got the medical supplies in order and gave Louis a heavy dose of pain killers. They got him on a table in the kitchen, in the best lighting, and Doc got the suture material out. She injected lidocaine all around the wounds and began carefully cleaning them, scraping out dead material and stitching together the muscle. She stitched the skin together as best she could, but much of the skin had died or shrunk to the point it wouldn't cover the wound. After a moment of consideration, she had Louis shift over on his side, and giving him some more lidocaine, she took some small strips of skin off the back of his hip. Carefully laying them over the wounds, she stretched them out and stitched them in place. She covered it with antibiotic ointment, and also dressed the areas on the hip were she harvested the donor skin, then bandaged everything back up. They helped him back to his spot on the couch to rest. Doc hoped that this would be enough, because she was really running out of tools and expertise to help him.

Doc went back to the little bedroom, planning on taking a nap. The nightmare hadn't made for the best night's sleep and she still felt exhausted. She changed into t-shirt and shorts and dropped onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling, feeling afraid to actually close her eyes, in case those images returned. Francis came in a little while later, he washed up and stripped his dirty clothes off as he settled in next to her. He trailed his fingers along her body, "Like a little company?"

She arched an eyebrow at him, looking him up and down, "There's nothing "little" about you, buddy." She kissed him as he helped her out of her clothes. After they satisfied themselves, she finally fell deeply asleep, his chest pillowing her as she listened to his heart beating solidly beneath her. Francis wasn't very sleepy, but he stayed there, he didn't want to disturb her. He watched her sleep, hoping the nightmares stayed buried deep. Jesus, she jumped out of the third story of a building on the off chance she could make it into the river? He really was going to have nightmares about that, now that he knew how close to death she'd come. It was sheer luck she hadn't died back there with Bill. He just hoped her luck held, he thought hazily, as he drifted off to sleep.


	26. Further Down the Highway to Hell

Eventually they stirred themselves and got up. Francis to get dinner together and she to check on Louis and see how he was doing. Louis seemed ok, no change for better or worse yet. She gave him a pack of oral antibiotics to start, it was time to change to a different type anyway. They ate their evening meal quietly, a surprisingly tasty tuna casserole with biscuits, as they discussed the upcoming day. Louis and Francis were all for staying one more day. Louis knew his leg was still in no condition for a long walk and Francis didn't really relish the idea of carrying him, his back cringed just thinking about it. Zoey and Doc would just as soon get going and try to get to the island as soon as possible. They decided just to wait and see how Louis was doing in the morning and decide then. They also decided that, given how secure their current quarters were and the fact that not a single infected had been spotted in the area, it wasn't necessary to do watch shifts.

They cleaned up after the meal and Doc suggested they play some poker, using the snacks they found instead of cash. She divided all the snacks they liberated from the snack machine between the players, got out the bottle of whiskey and a deck of cards and it was on. Soon they were all laughing and having a good time together, joking and playing. It was the most fun Doc could remember having with the group, the first time they'd really relaxed and socialized.

As it turned out, Francis was more than a match for any of them at poker. Doc was a good poker player, she'd often won organized poker jackpots, but even she had trouble against him. She looked at him appraisingly. He was much smarter than he let on, that was obvious. You couldn't play like that and beat her without being pretty damned sharp. It was very clear to her that he preferred to let others think he was stupid, but it was all a complete act. She guessed it was a kind of defense he'd built up over the years, probably kept others in the gang from seeing him as a threat, maybe it allowed him some freedom from their expectations. He quickly cleaned them out of all their snacks, but graciously divided them up again to continue another round. Francis cleaned them out again, then declared that he would save the stash and give them another opportunity to win it back another night. They polished off the whiskey, which left Zoey staggering to her bedding and Louis needing to be helped to his couch by Francis. Doc and Francis stayed awake a while longer, just sitting and talking quietly before turning in. They made love almost lazily, just taking their time, before falling deeply asleep.

The next morning found the group a bit slow to get up and get going. Francis finally got up, simply because he was starving. He got the breakfast together and they all discussed whether they should leave or not as they ate. Doc was eager to get on the road to the island as soon as possible, so with her encouragement they finally decided to set out.

They gathered the gear together once more, piling it all on the bikes. They strapped their packs down and rolled the bikes into the street. Zoey had never driven a street motorcycle, but she had experience riding off-road bikes with her dad. Since she already knew how to shift, she shouldn't have too much trouble with the Harley sportster she was piloting. Louis had only minimal experience with motorcycles, so they'd given him the less powerful cruiser equipped with an automatic transmission, hoping he would be able to manage it with his bad leg.

They started up the motorcycles, cringing at the roaring, which broke the complete silence blanketing the abandoned town. The fatboy made an ungodly racket, its pipes custom made to create an earsplitting rumble. The Ducati and other cruisers were relatively quiet at an idle. Doc frowned at the loud bike, she never liked the thundering roar some bikers insisted on for their hogs. Sure, cagers could hear you coming a mile away, but it deafened everyone else around you. Francis shrugged, he wasn't a fan of that either, since he typically liked to keep his presence on the down low, but there wasn't much they could do about it now. Everyone would definitely hear them coming with that thing running. In spite of the racket, not a single zombie appeared as they set off down the road.

They ran across pockets of abandoned vehicles, but it was fairly easy riding otherwise. Doc couldn't help playing a bit with the Duc, it was easy to wheelie it and she couldn't help running it down the road on one wheel a couple of times. She tried a few stoppies until she caught the stink eye from Francis. He glared at her and patted the small seat behind him. With some grumbling punctuated by an irritated burn out, she finally settled down to a more sedate ride.

They were able to make decent time for only about an hour before they began to run into clusters of abandoned vehicles and massive accidents snarling the road and making it nearly impassable. They were often forced to get off their motorcycles and steer them through the wreckage or into the soft shoulders or grass to go around sections of road. This was exhausting, especially with the heavier bikes. Francis was forced to move his bike, then go back repeatedly to help move the others. It wasn't long before he was drenched in sweat, his face etched with exhaustion. There were short breaks to rest when they found clear road, but that was happening less and less often. They ran across the occasional infected drifting aimlessly through the wreckage, but for the most part the roadway seemed deserted by any living or dead.

It was late afternoon and they were taking another break after making it through the latest snarl of wreckage. They had found an RV full of provisions and were busily packing items away and eating and drinking as much as they could manage before moving on. They sat in the RV, rooting through the items they'd found.

"I fuckin' love Fritos, I don't know what you guys are talkin' about," Francis continued as he jammed a handful of the corn chips into his mouth. "They're corn AND chips. It's all good! Wish we had some cold beer, though."

"Great, now we're gonna have to deal with your Frito breath. Go find some junior mints or somethin', for Chrissakes!" Doc shook her head, frowning at him as she filled a bag with canned goods. "I can tell you one goddamned thing about the people that owned this rig. If the infected hadn't killed them, their diet would have. Who the hell considers cotton candy a diet staple? It looks like they broke into a Walmart and took everything from the junk food aisle."

"Wouldn't surprise me if that's exactly what happened," Louis agreed. "Looks like a lot of this stuff was just thrown in here in a pile. We should just try to pick out as much of the protein and vegetables as we can, then go for the higher calorie stuff on top of that."

"Fuckin' awesome! Looky what I found…" Francis gleefully held up a package of Twinkies.

"I would honestly prefer to be shot before I would agree to fire down a stale Twinkie," Doc eyed the item in question with disgust. "I don't think that chemical concoction can really be considered food, anyway."

"Just for that, you can't have any. I'm gonna polish 'em off right now, so you won't have another chance at 'em." He gobbled them down with a grin. They were a little stale, but he didn't care. He rooted around some more in the jumble of food. "All right! I love these things! Anybody find any crackers?" He opened up a can of sardines and started eating them, one by one. He found a can of Cheez Whiz and started spraying it on each sardine before gulping the concoction down

Doc looked over, smelled the sardines and considered the combination of fritos, twinkies, sardines and Cheez Whiz and began to turn green. "I'm outta here, I need some fresh air or maybe a stomach pump!" She staggered out of the RV and tried to think of something else, anything else, in an effort to quell her mutinous stomach. As she leaned against the RV she thought she heard a whining noise in the distance, back in the direction they had just come from.

She stuck her head back in the RV door. "Hey! Francis! Come out here for a second!"

"Wha'?" He said in a muffled voice. "I'm still hungry!"

"Just get out here, please! You can go back to destroying your stomach and arteries later!" She answered, shuddering once more at the revolting buffet inside.

"What's so fuckin' important? I'm on a mission here!" He poked his head out the door as he stuffed Cheetohs into his mouth, greasy orange stuff trailing down his shirt and smeared all over his hands.

She held her finger to her lips to silence him. He climbed out and stood next to her as they both listened to the distant whine, which seemed to stop and start in fits.

"Sounds like an engine of some sort." Francis concluded, wiping his orange fingers on his jeans.

"Yep, I agree. Think we should go check out who's coming up on our six. I'd rather find them before they find us." She went back inside and after a short discussion they decided that Zoey and Louis would remain behind to sort the food and load up the bikes, while she and Francis would go back to check out their company.

They carefully crept back through the jumble of vehicles, covering any open ground as quickly as they could. They made their way cautiously through some more wreckage until they were able to view the source of the engine noise.

Just below them they could see a white service van, which had slewed off the road and into a marshy section just off the shoulder after attempting to go around some wreckage. Several people were gathered around contemplating the stuck van, and they recognized them immediately as the group they had lowered the bridge for. As they watched, two of the men attempted to push the van back onto solid ground, while the woman drove. The guy in coveralls and the one in the white suit strained and heaved at the back of the van, as it slung mud and muck all over them. Their pushing had little effect, as the van's wheels spun futilely.

After another short discussion, and some heated arguments from Francis, Doc carefully picked her way down to the group, keeping out of sight. Francis remained hidden in the snarled wreckage, covering her with a hunting rifle and waiting for a signal from her. He watched the strangers through the scope, his face grim. He was seriously considering whether he should pick off one of them right now, but decided that would probably lead to big trouble.

The van was so noisy and the group of strangers so preoccupied with freeing the van that she was able to creep up behind them without trouble. She leaned against a wrecked car, cradling her shotty, as she waited for the engine to stop screaming after the latest failed attempt to free the vehicle.

"You people need to give that a rest before you blow the engine…" she observed, once they had shut the van off.

They whipped around wide-eyed, raising their weapons to aim at her. The guy in the formerly white suit snarled at her as he aimed an AK-47, "Put that shit on the ground before I put a hole in you!"

She raised her hands, the shotty resting on her legs. "Easy, man. Just came down to see whether you wanted help. No reason to get hostile with me, especially since we've already hauled your bacon out of the fire once."

Everyone, except the guy in the suit, lowered their weapons. He was looking at her, but glancing nervously beyond her, apparently scanning to see if there was anybody else with her.

He knows I've got somebody out there watching, she thought. Pretty savvy guy to figure that one out. She quietly observed them, noting they looked a bit worse for wear since the last time she'd seen them. The big guy, Coach, was injured. His arm was in a sling and it looked like he couldn't use it at all. The young guy in coveralls whose name she couldn't recall, looked a bit scorched, as if he had barely escaped a fire. The others had some cuts and bruises, their clothing torn and tattered as if from a blast.

"Surprised to see you folks here, this ain't the way to New Orleans. Please tell Colonel Sanders here to stop aiming his weapon at me, I don't mean you any harm, I just came over to see if you wanted any help."

"Come on, put that away. The lady here is ok." Coach spoke to the man.

With a grunt, the man lowered the rifle, but continued to eye her suspiciously and scan the area behind her, looking for trouble.

"Well, y'all were right about the military. We didn't get too far before they started bombing the crap out of us, blew the Jimmy Gibbs right up. They even sent jets to bomb the road and bridges, and a military chopper that tried to shoot the shit out of us. I reckon you were right about them." The young man in coveralls scuffed his feet on the ground as he spoke to her.

"Yep, so we decided to take one out of your playbook and go find us an island. Maybe we can join up and go find one together." Coach added. "'Course, unless we can get this thing back on the road, we're gonna be on foot and it'll take forever to get there."

"Mind if I take a look at it?" She set her shotty down and went over to take a closer look at the situation. The wheels were deeply mired, but with the correct approach she was pretty sure she could get it back on solid ground.

"Listen, sweetheart. If we can't get it out, I don't think you're gonna be able to do anything." The man oozed smarmy condescension as he crossed his arms and looked her up and down, smirking unpleasantly.

She rolled her eyes at him, then gave a sharp whistle and waved. Francis emerged from hiding and strode down to them. He gave a sharp look at the guy in the white suit, who returned an unfriendly stare, gazing at Francis' scoped rifle.

"Help me get this heap back on the road", she said to him as he walked up to her.

Francis looked over the stuck van, noting how deep they had sunk the back wheels. "I dunno, looks like it's sunk in pretty good. Don't know how we're gonna do any better than they did."

"Not to worry, I'm gonna use a very specialized muscle to get that thing out. It'll be a piece of cake, just wait and see. I don't even think we need them, just you and me plus a driver should do it." She spoke as she walked over to the wreckage of a pickup truck, rooting around in the rubble.

"She is a fucking nut job! Where did you find this chick, anyway? The local loony bin?" The guy in the white suit sneered at Francis.

"Just shut the fuck up, Nick! She's got more brains in her little pinky than you do in your entire greasy head!" Francis snarled back at the man. Doc darted him a look of surprise.

She walked back, dragging a couple of slabs of plywood paneling, then went off and returned with some long wood posts. She placed the paneling in front of the tires, stomping them down. "All right, somebody get in and drive this thing. Don't floor it, we just want to ease it onto the plywood for traction, not fling the plywood into the next county."

She tossed one of the posts to Francis, who had started to grin as he grasped what they were going to do. They each lodged a pole under the rear bumper of the van and used them to pry the van up and push it onto the plywood as the driver, the guy in the coveralls, eased the van forward onto the solid surface and then back onto the road. All in all, it took less than 5 minutes and relatively little effort on their part.

Coach chuckled as he realized how foolish they had been. "Guess she showed you where the bear shit in the buckwheat, Nick! You too, Ellis!"

Ellis got out of the van, red-faced with embarrassment. He had no idea why he hadn't thought of doing that. "Thank you kindly, miss. I guess we're all just not thinkin' straight."

"No problem, just remember in the future to apply brains before brawn. Save yourself a lot of grief that way." She answered him as she retrieved her shotty and went to stand next to Francis, who was giving a smirk of satisfaction to Nick. "As far as teaming up together, we'll need to talk it over with the others. They're just over that hill a ways, so if you'll give us a lift in the back of the van we can take you to them. There's also an RV there with some supplies that you're welcome to share, there's more there than we can take."

They drove up to the RV and piled out of the van. Louis and Zoey were totally dumbfounded to see the other group, they never expected to see them again.

The young mechanic, Ellis, was clearly thrilled to see Zoey again and Louis was not unhappy to be in the presence of Rochelle, either. They excitedly talked together as they sorted through the remaining food.

"Hey, Coach. Let me have a look at that." Doc motioned for him to sit down so she could examine his injury.

Coach ambled over and sat down in the lawn chair they had brought out. She removed the sling and checked out his injured arm. It was broken at the ulna and radius, they would need to pull it straight to set it, then splint and immobilize it. At least it wasn't an open fracture, that would have been a real mess.

"Hey, Francis!" She looked over to interrupt the glaring contest going on between him and Nick. "Can you come help me, please? Coach here has a broken arm that needs to be set and splinted."

Francis shot Nick one last deadly glare and went over to help. He checked the break out, then grasped the arm to help straighten it for splinting. Doc found a piece of metal in the wreckage that they could bend and use for splinting. Francis straightened the arm, while Doc splinted and wrapped it tightly, finally placing it back in the sling he had been using. Coach gasped at the pain and leaned forward on his knees, before straightening up with a smile.

"Thanks for that. It hurts like hell, but at least now I can move it a bit without the whole thing flopping." He clapped Francis on the shoulder. "Much obliged, son."

Francis gave a tentative smile, thinking about Bill, who used to refer to him as "son" all the time. "No problemo, any time, man." He replied as he turned and walked quickly back to the RV.

They all finished taking the supplies from the RV. They were able to take almost everything, as the van had plenty of cargo space. Francis, Zoey, Louis and Doc had a small discussion while the other group loaded up their van.

"Well, I don't really trust them after what happened at the bridge, but I think we should give them a chance." Doc was saying as she munched on some raisins.

Zoey and Louis agreed with Doc, they were all for combining with the other group. Francis, on the other hand, was completely opposed to the idea.

"I trust 'em about as far as I can throw 'em, maybe not even that far. They'll just use us and ditch us first chance they get and probably take our stuff in the bargain. I say no way!" Francis frowned as he demolished a package of oreos and then started to drink a jar of extra hot salsa as if it were tomato juice. Doc was just glad she had found some toothpaste and brushes in the supplies for each of them. Francis' breath after this food free-for-all could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon.

"So let's just give them a chance and be very careful to protect our weapons, supplies and transportation. I think that Coach, Rochelle and Ellis are ok, I'm just not sure about that Nick guy." Doc said, shooting a look at Francis, who just scowled and looked away.

"Ok, ok. But when they fuck us over, I'm gonna say 'I told you so', about a hundred times." Francis kicked a broken headlight down the road in disgust. He was hoping they could just part company and he wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. Just his goddamned luck that, of all people, Nick would pop back into his life. This apocalypse was now delving into the realm of the surreal, as far as he was concerned.


	27. Deadly Enemies

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you are all enjoying the story. I know it's a long one, so thank you to everybody who is still following along. Please do let me know what you think. This is a first effort and I sincerely appreciate your feedback. I'm posting an extra chapter today just for the hell of it.

They got underway once more, weaving their way through the wrecks and putting another 10 miles behind them before they decided to take an off ramp and find shelter before it got dark. They encountered very few infected, and the few they did meet were dispatched with melee weapons.

The exit they got off left them in a fairly rural area, with no signs of a safe-room. The finally came across a large self-storage facility with a big warehouse and decided to seek shelter there.

The van was driven into the large warehouse, while Francis broke into the office and took all the keys he could find. He located several empty rooms and they stored their bikes, supplies and weapons in one of them and locked it. Francis and Doc took one of the other rooms, dropping their packs in it, while Louis and Zoey opted to camp out with the other group, who were setting their things up in the main warehouse. Francis opened up a couple of the lockers, finding a mattress to drag back to their room. The others rummaged around and turned up more mattresses and inflatable beds in the other units.

"We'll make dinner, and you all are invited as our guests. After all, you helped us out with the van and helped us get the supplies. So let's have ourselves a little celebration!" Rochelle said with a smile as she and Coach began to organize the meal. Everyone, with the exception of Francis and Nick, seemed to approve of the idea.

Doc and Francis returned to their little room, which put a whole new spin on self storage, to rest while dinner was being prepared. They set up their bedding and lay down, Doc was resting her head on Francis' shoulder.

"So, what's the story between you and Nick? Where do you know him from?" Doc asked.

"Him? What makes you think I know him?" Francis was startled by the question and frowned at her, his eyes darting nervously around. He definitely did not want to talk about that. She felt him tense up, he suddenly felt like a rock pillow under her head.

She gave a frustrated sigh. "Please, Francis, let's not play this game. You know him. You knew his name and I could just tell by the way you talked to him. If I were to guess, I would say he's not a friend, probably a business acquaintance that you don't particularly like. How close am I?"

Francis shook his head in annoyance, she was too damn close, that's for sure. "OK, he's somebody I know from the Legion. Can we drop it?"

"No. You can spill it. I need to know if he can be trusted or if he's gonna be a problem." She was determined to get to the bottom of this and why Francis was being so reticent and evasive.

Francis clenched his jaw and looked away. He'd been trying to forget about everyone and everything from those days. Leave it to fucking Nick to pop up as a survivor. They'd been friends once. In fact, Nick was the one who steered him into becoming a member of Hell's Legion. Now that he thought about it a bit more, it's more than likely that Nick was sent to purposely recruit him, he'd just been stupid enough to think that Nick was his friend, when really he'd been nothing but a mark all along. He'd been a young, angry giant of a kid with a penchant for fighting and winning bar brawls, and the idea of being included in a family, like the Legion, was appealing at the time.

They'd been partners for a short while, fellow grunts, until Nick started clawing his way up the organization's ladder. Nick was clever and manipulative, which served him well in his quest for advancement. Francis was blunt and gruff, completely uninterested in anything to do with management. He'd seen little of Nick once he became a manager. Francis was left behind as a low level grunt, eventually working his way up through the school of hard knocks to become a high level enforcer. He didn't hear from his old partner for years, until Francis decided it was time to part company with the Legion. He soon discovered that there was no leaving that family, except in a box. He'd become too important to them and knew way too much for them to cut him loose. They manipulated him and used him, he had no choice but to obey them or die. He tried to go AWOL on them and once they dragged him back they assigned him a handler, his old buddy Nick. It was Nick who gave him his orders and Nick who tailed him all over the place, making sure he did what he was told to. It was Nick who made sure he didn't run or fetched him back with threats and coercion when he did. Francis despised Nick and everything about him, he represented his entrapment by the Legion, a criminal organization which used him and left him beaten and broken, stamped with their ink like the property he'd become.

Francis sighed and looked over to Doc. "He's a member of the Hell's Legion crime syndicate, just like me. A higher ranking member, who gave out orders that the grunts like me had to carry out. When I was trying to get out of that whole life, he was the one sent to drag me back and follow me around to make sure I did what I was ordered to. We despise each other, he's a slick bastard that would kill his own grandmother if the bosses told him to."

"Hmmm, worse than I thought." She frowned as she looked at him. "So what you're telling me is that, out of all people in the country, your criminal supervisor is one of the survivors on the other team. And now he knows you're alive. Terrific. If the Hell's Legion still exists, are they going to come after you?"

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He'd been hoping never to see that group again, that Nick would end up dead and no longer present a problem. It was just his goddamned luck that this is how things would turn out. Francis made a point of never purposely killing anyone. He would beat the living hell out of people, like he was ordered to, but he would never kill them. Now he was thinking he would need to make an exception to that little rule. Nick would have to die, otherwise Francis would never feel that Doc was safe. She would be grabbed up and used against him, he had no doubt about that. He had no illusions about what would happen then, she'd try to get loose or mouth off and piss off the wrong person and end up dead. No, Nick would have to be terminated, unless he wanted to look over his shoulder for the rest of his life. He would just need to wait for the right opportunity and also be very, very careful. Nick might decide to launch a preemptive strike against him, he had an uncanny way of guessing what Francis was planning to do. If he had even an inkling that Francis was thinking about killing him, he would strike fast and fatally, Francis knew that much.

They lay there for a short while, resting uneasily after Francis' revelations. Zoey came by to let them know dinner was almost ready, so they got up and headed off for the warehouse.

Rochelle and Coach had made quite a feast for them: Chili and canned ham, baked beans and spaghetti with mushroom sauce, all cooked on a grill they had found in storage, with assorted fruit cups and snacks for dessert.

They gathered in a big circle, with most of the group chattering excitedly. Doc noticed that Francis and Nick were the only ones not joining in, each eyeing the other suspiciously across the circle. They ate like feral dogs, gulping their food while glancing quickly at each other every so often, ready to bite and snap at any provocation. The rest of the survivors seemed oblivious, except for Coach. She could see that he noticed the tension between Nick and Francis as well, glancing uneasily at the two of them.

After the meal, most of the group remained to chat and trade stories about their encounters with the infected. Francis was exhausted after a day of pushing motorcycles around and short-tempered after his reunion with Nick, so he opted to call it a night and Doc went along with him back to their storage room.

They went inside and Francis immediately closed the door and blocked the mechanism so that it could not be opened from outside. Doc arched a brow at him and he just shrugged.

"Nick may decide that I'm a threat, I don't want any unexpected visits from him during the night." Francis scowled as he removed his grimy clothing, lowering himself down on the mattress with a grunt of pain. His sore muscles had begun to stiffen up, he was going to be hurting tomorrow for sure.

She changed into shorts and a t-shirt and knelt down next to him, prodding him gently to turn over so that she could massage his back. She kneaded the sore muscles in his lower back as he groaned in relief. He hadn't even realized how bad it felt until she soothed the pain out. She worked on his mid and upper back and shoulders, firmly massaging his sore muscles. If she ever wanted to give up the science gig, she would make an awesome masseuse, he thought. She had strong fingers and seemed to know exactly where each and every muscle was and how to stretch them and release the tension. Of course, being knowledgable in anatomy helped with that, no doubt. He sighed contentedly and clasped her hand over his shoulder, easing out from under her. He turned to her with the intention of returning the favor, but she stopped him.

"No, I'm good. Don't wreck a perfectly good massage by trying to work on me, I'm fine." She tucked herself against him, trying to get comfortable.

He looked down at her skeptically. He could tell she was hurting, but in typical stubborn fashion she wouldn't admit it. "I'm not gonna wreck it. Just tell me where you're hurting and let me help, ok?" He rested his hand on her hip as she thought about it.

She sighed in resignation. "All right, fine. The shoulder that I dislocated is partially frozen, it's throwing everything out of whack. I have to pretty much steer the motorcycle one handed, and it's a real problem when I try to push it because I have almost no control or strength on that side at all, I'm just using body weight to compensate for it." She had pushed her motorcycle through all the wreckage without help from Francis, he had more than he could handle with helping Zoey and Louis, but it had been difficult and painful. It wouldn't have even been possible except the Ducati was a much lighter bike than the cruisers. Even so, it still weighed more than twice what she did.

"Here, lie back and let me see what I can do. I tore a rotator cuff a while back, had to do a lot of PT for it, so I'm used to dealing with shoulder problems." Francis had her lift and move the arm, telling him when and where it hurt. He carefully massaged the muscles surrounding the joint and manipulated the arm, trying to stretch it out and recover some mobility. Doc grimaced in pain and did her best to relax as he extended the range of motion, but it hurt like hell. She suspected she'd torn some of the ligaments in it, which would take a long time to heal properly, if it ever did.

"How's that? Any better?" Francis asked as he carefully set her arm back down.

She tested it out, tentatively reaching up, finding that the range of motion had actually improved quite a bit. She smiled back at him, "Better. Almost good as new. See?" She reached over with the injured arm and pulled him down on top of her, grinning. Happily exhausted quite a while later, they finally fell asleep.

The next morning they all gathered together for a quick breakfast, grabbing whatever they could find in the supplies. Most of them had cereal with some water, while Francis and Ellis opted for other items, with Francis plowing through an entire jar of pickled eggs and some beef jerky and Ellis eating instant grits. They all had some instant coffee and then got ready to leave.

The trip this morning was much like the previous day's, some clear road with occasional stops to work their way through the twisted wreckage blocking the road. Ellis and Rochelle ended up staying with Doc's group to help Zoey and Louis push their bikes through the messes. They eventually just rode the motorcycles double, Ellis with Zoey behind him and Louis with Rochelle behind him. Doc just smiled, it looked like she and Francis wouldn't be the only couple in their expanded group. Nick drove the van, with Coach in the passenger seat.

They had made decent progress, putting maybe 40 miles behind them when they came to a major wreck in the late afternoon. It threatened to bring them to a complete halt. They came upon a bridge, which was almost completely blocked, a large tanker truck had jackknifed, blocking all lanes. There was a small section of the bridge on one edge, about 3 feet wide, which would allow them to get the bikes past the blockage. If they were very careful they could get the bikes across, but there was no way the van would be able to go through. After discussing it a bit, they crossed the bikes to the other side, then emptied the van, taking as many supplies as they could fit on the bikes.

"So who's riding with who?" Doc looked over at Coach and Nick as she sat on the Ducati and Francis sat astride his hog. The others were already paired up on the other two bikes. Nick gave Francis a leering smirk as he swung his leg over the Ducati and pulled himself forward, wriggling suggestively against Doc as he grabbed her hips. She just rolled her eyes, she had a good idea of what was going to happen next.

Francis snarled and jumped off the Harley. He grabbed Nick by the collar, lifted him off the bike and dashed him to the ground. Nick jumped up growling as he charged Francis, head butting him in the gut and forcing him to the ground. Francis elbowed him in the head on the way down, then clobbered him with a meaty fist right in the jaw as he hit the ground on his back. Nick tumbled over on his side, completely dazed, as Francis leapt on top of him and got ready to really punch him. He wasn't trying to hurt the guy, he meant to kill him. He would have done it, but his wrist was grabbed by Coach, who lifted him off Nick and flung him away.

"That's enough, y'all! We ain't having this! Y'all need to calm down and we'll settle this some other way. Nick! Treat the lady with respect, you know better than that!" Coach reached down and practically wrenched Nick back to his feet. Nick glared murderously at Francis, as he wiped blood from his mouth and staggered up. Francis got back up to his feet, glaring right back, as he slowly circled Coach.

Doc sighed and got off the Ducati. "OK, do either of you know how to drive a motorcycle?"

Coach turned toward her and nodded, while Nick focused his angry glare on her as he hissed at her, "What's your fucking point, anyway?" Francis growled and started to advance on him again, and Nick sidled back behind Coach.

"The point, Einstein, is that we have two bikes and two large people and two smaller people. It makes no sense to put the two larger people on one bike. And given that your chance of living through a ride with Francis approaches zero, it seems logical that you will have to pilot a bike. I'll go with Francis, you can borrow my bike. And I emphasize the word "borrow". You better make damn sure you don't damage it." She replied, as she walked over to Francis.

"Oh, yeah? And what are you gonna do about it if we do?" Nick sneered over at her.

"I'll teach you a new respect for women, for one thing. For another, I'll rip your nuts off and shove them down your throat. Go ahead, try me and see whether I'm kidding or not." She shot Nick a truly evil smile. He blanched a bit and the sneer faded from his face. That crazy bitch looked like she meant it.

Coach walked over to the Ducati and swung his leg over it, taking the passenger seat. He looked back at Nick, who glowered at him. "Y'all comin' or do we leave your skinny ass behind for the mush heads, Nick?"

Nick snarled in disgust and climbed on the Ducati, while Francis scowled fiercely, stalked over to the Fatboy and mounted up. Doc got on behind him, giving his shoulder a squeeze and a putting her hand on his back until she felt him relax and breath. She gripped his hips and settled against him as he started the bike and moved off, following the others.

They took the next off ramp, looking for a safe place for the night. They came across a small town and parked on the main street.

Doc got off the Harley and stretched, then rubbed her temples as she nursed a bad headache. If she was going to ride with Francis, she really needed some ear plugs. Her ears were still ringing even though the damned thing was no longer running. She felt groggy and exhausted, she just wanted to go lie down in a safe place, the sooner the better.

"So, how about we break up into teams, look for a good building to hole up in?" She suggested to the others as they all slowly gathered together. They decided to leave Louis and Rochelle behind with the bikes and supplies, since Louis was still not fully mobile. The remaining three from each team would split off and go look for a safe place and supplies.

Doc, Francis and Zoey headed down the street, away from the direction they had taken into the town. The other group headed off down another intersecting main street. They eyed the buildings as they walked slowly along. Most of them just looked like small service-type shops and none of them looked terribly interesting. There were very few infected around, occasionally they would see one slumped on the ground and Francis would finish it with his axe. There were numerous corpses, both people and zombies scattered around in varying stages of decay.

Doc spotted a fire station and suggested they check it out, maybe they would be able to pick up some medical supplies. The door to the building was completely missing, smashed in, so they had no trouble gaining entrance. They cautiously entered the dark, cavernous engine bay as they shined their flashlights around. Aside from one infected, clad in a fireman's uniform, lurking in an office, it was empty. Doc was able to scavenge a few medical supplies, gauze, tape, ointment, disinfectant and some vials of injectable meds from a kit in the ambulance. It wasn't much, they were clearly not the first to scavenge in there.

Just down the road, Francis spotted a police station, so they headed over to check it out. The door to that building was also broken and half off its hinges, they weren't the first ones through there either. They didn't find much of value, it had been thoroughly looted long ago. Francis suggested they head over to the garage area, since they might find some ammo or weapons still inside the cruisers kept there.

Doc was leading as they wound their way down a stairwell to the garage area. She descended the last flight of stairs, turned the corner and came face to face with a tank, just standing there completely silent. "SHIT! Run like hell!" she yelled to the others as she whipped around to bolt back up the stairs. Zoey was now in the lead, with Francis running behind her and Doc at the tail end, nearest to the now enraged tank, which was pursuing with a roar as it tried to swipe at Doc. She dodged from side to side, avoiding the blows, as she bounded up the stairwell, practically shoving Francis along ahead of her. They burst out into the parking lot, Doc slammed the door shut behind her.

The tank slammed into the door, pounding it with its giant fists, leaving huge dents and a hole in the steel. Francis pulled out his shotgun and began to blast at the thing right through the hole. He only had 12 shells in the weapon, he cursed himself for not taking the time to reload it. Once empty, he grabbed his axe from his back and, setting his jaw grimly, got ready to use it. Zoey, in the meantime, had positioned herself across the parking lot, directly opposite the door, aiming at it with her hunting rifle. Doc stood next to the door with her katana, she planned on hacking at it as it tried to force its way through the opening. She only hoped they could damage it enough so that it would be weakened once it got through the door. She knew that once it was out in the open parking lot they would be in big trouble and she already knew they didn't have enough rounds in their weapons to down the massive zombie, they would need to inflict most of the damage using the sword and axe.

She cursed herself for being too complacent. They should have made sure they had all their weapons fully loaded and extra ammo on hand, just in case. Bill would have never made such a stupid mistake and she was furious with herself. Now they were in big trouble, just because she hadn't been thinking ahead and had become used to the relative lack of infected they had encountered the last few days. It was going to cost them big, she knew. God, I suck at this leading shit, she thought as she gripped the katana tightly and vowed to do her damnedest to make sure nobody else but her paid for this latest stupidity.

The tank burst through the door, as Doc and Francis hacked at it. The tank howled in fury, then snatched Francis up with a meaty hand around his waist and used his body to bash Doc aside, before flinging him skipping across the parking lot and into a brick wall. He lay there motionless, as Doc rolled and jumped to avoid the tank's grasp, her shotgun had gone skittering across the blacktop somewhere so she was relying on the katana. Zoey opened up with her hunting rifle, quickly emptying the entire clip into the enraged beast. It bent down and tore a chunk of asphalt from the ground and flung it toward her, scoring a direct hit. Zoey lay sprawled on the ground under the rubble as Doc continued to hack at the hideous mountain of flesh with her katana. The tank was now able to focus its attack on her, so it charged and swiped as she dodged and jumped to avoid it. It managed to hit her with a glancing blow and she skidded across the lot. She dodged around a car, trying to keep it between her and the tank, when suddenly the car exploded into the air, slamming into her and pinning her on the ground against a wall, under the upside down vehicle.

Shit! She hadn't even considered that the tank might throw the car around to get at her. Yet another idiotic mistake, she thought grimly. The giant beast snarled as it searched for its next target. It spotted Francis, as he tried to pull himself back to his feet. Doc struggled to get loose, kicking and squirming to free herself from under the vehicle.

"Francis! Look out! Get outta there!" She screamed a warning to him as the tank bore down. She wrenched her leg out from under the car, losing her boot in the process, and tried to get up. The leg buckled under her. She took out the Desert Eagle, as she dragged herself along the ground toward Francis, who was trying to hold the tank off, batting at it with his empty shotty. He was battered into the brick wall, bouncing off it to the ground, as she opened fire. She emptied one clip into the massive creature and it began to falter as the large caliber bullets thudded home in its rotting flesh. It turned and slowly lumbered her way as she removed the extra clip from the foregrip and loaded it. It towered over her as she began firing, it responded by bashing a gigantic fist across her chest, slamming her back against the ground, and causing the Eagle to bounce away, just out of reach. She almost blacked out, it felt like her chest and lungs were crushed, she couldn't even breathe, but she kept her focus on the Eagle and started dragging herself toward it. Just then, she heard the chatter of an AK-47 and saw the tank collapse and fold to the ground, followed by the sound of somebody slowly walking toward her, the parking lot gravel crunching underfoot.

"Help…Help us…" she gasped out, coughing. She spat out a mouthful of blood as she collapsed on her side, limp on the broken asphalt. Two shoes appeared in front of her, Italian leather spattered with mud, the hems of a filthy white suit above them. The shoes didn't move, they just stood there as she stared at them. She knew they were finished then, there would be no help. She reached toward the Eagle, but one of the shoes planted itself on her hand as the other shoe kicked the Eagle away. She tried to push herself up, she needed to protect Francis, but she was roughly shoved over on to her back. A blurred figure swam in front of her as she tried to lift her head, but then everything just abruptly went black.


	28. Giving Mercy

Nick looked around him after finishing off the tank and disarming and disabling Doc, he wasn't in the mood to get shot right now. The other team had been smashed to shit, their broken bodies scattered across the lot. The rest of his group had not yet caught up, he'd been the closest when they heard the shots and he was considerably faster than Coach, and Ellis wouldn't leave Coach behind. He walked over to look at Francis, crumpled on the ground, unconscious. This was the perfect opportunity to rid himself of his former colleague, before he tried to kill him again. Francis looked oddly small and helpless, curled on the ground. His face appeared tranquil and innocent looking and Nick was reminded of the Francis he knew as a youngster, fun, mischievous, loyal, a friend who always had his back without question. Nick raised the AK, but then he felt something, which prevented him from shooting. At first he couldn't pinpoint what he was feeling, he finally decided it was pity, something he hadn't felt in years. Nick had taken lives before, but he'd never killed someone who was unconscious and completely defenseless. Nick sighed, leave it to Francis to make even his killing a complete fucking nuisance. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, so he turned away to check on the young woman, Zoey, who seemed to be coming around, stirring and moaning. Coach and Ellis finally caught up, skidding to a stop as they viewed the tank's devastating handiwork.

They helped Zoey to her feet, as they worked out the details on how to get the others back to the bikes and supplies. Finally they decided it made more sense to hole up in one of the police buildings, rather than to try to drag the wounded all the way back. Coach suggested they use the holding cell area of the little police jail as their secure area. The cells and suite of offices in that area were all barred and secure, assuming there weren't any more tanks around. Once that was decided, they carried Francis and Doc down and laid them on cots in the cells. They helped Zoey down the stairs and into another bed, she was just a bit disoriented after having been knocked out by a chunk of pavement. Ellis and Nick went back to get Louis and Rochelle and to help them transport the bikes to their new safe area. They put the bikes in the police garage and brought the supplies in to begin working on the wounded and preparing to spend the night.

Francis woke with a splitting headache and to bars surrounding him, an all too familiar scenario for him. He'd probably torn up another bar in a bar fight, decked a cop or pulled some of his usual bullshit. He sat up, holding his aching, bandaged head as he tried to piece things together. He'd been having some sort of weird dream about zombies and the Legion being dissolved. He vaguely recalled how much fun it'd been shooting zombies to pieces in the dream, especially the big pink ones. Whatever had happened, he'd gotten a serious ass kicking in the bargain, he was bruised and sore all over.

Just then, two of the people from his dream entered the cell and the one in the red jacket threw herself on him, hugging him tightly, as the guy with the red tie stood there grinning.

"Francis! You're awake! I was worried about you, you giant jackass! How are you feeling?" Zoey released him and sat next to him on the bed.

He blinked as he tried to clear his fogged head, suddenly remembering her name. "Zoey? Um, ok, I guess. What happened?" He felt the bandages with his hand as he tried to recall the events of the past day.

"You got the short end of the stick in our latest run in with a tank. You don't remember?" She looked at him with concern.

He thought a bit more and it started to come back to him. Guess it wasn't all a dream. He jerked his head up suddenly and looked around. "Where's Doc? Is she ok?" He stood up a bit unsteadily, as Zoey jumped up and tried to help.

"She's over there, on a cot. She hasn't woken up yet. Um…why don't you lie back down and rest and we'll let you know when she wakes up." Zoey glanced nervously at Louis as she tried to redirect Francis back down onto the bed, but he resisted her efforts and slowly made his way out of the cell and over to Doc's cot.

His heart fell when he saw her, she looked very pale and blood was slowly trickling and bubbling from her lips with every breath. Her sides heaved as the lungs struggled to compensate for the compromised surface area and bring in enough oxygen. Zoey reached over with a wet cloth and wiped the blood from her lips and face. She was positioned on her side and a pool of blood had collected on a towel placed under her head. It was all too clear to him that she was fighting for her life right now, her injuries could prove fatal.

Francis sank down on the bed next to her and felt her forehead and pulse, clasping her shoulder tightly. Shit, this wasn't good, bleeding into the lungs was definitely not good. He'd seen it a few times over the years, not to mention caused it a couple of times, and each time the injured person needed surgery. Just perfect, when the only person who could possibly perform the surgery was laying there in front of him. Damn it, they needed to find a surgeon, and quick. In the meantime, they needed to try to stabilize her and get more oxygen into her so she wouldn't be expending so much energy struggling to breathe.

"Get over to the Fire and Rescue and see if you can find oxygen tanks and a mask. She needs to be on oxygen, or she's gonna go downhill quick. Struggling to breath like that is going to sap her energy." Francis frowned as he laid a hand on her side, he could already feel the muscles quivering with fatigue. He cursed quietly, she'd already been struggling far too long. Zoey ran off to go look for a mask and tank.

"Come on, you can't do anything to help her right now. Let's get some food and water into you and get you fixed up. Rochelle knows how to put stitches in, we need to finish patching you up. Then you need to get some more rest, you really took a beating there." Louis helped him up and over to a nearby table to eat and then get stitched up. He was so worried and preoccupied, he barely felt anything as Rochelle stitched his torn scalp back together. He took some pain meds and limped slowly back to his cot, after checking on Doc and making sure she was getting as much oxygen flow as they could give her and that the mask wasn't filling with blood. At least her breathing had calmed somewhat and her sides weren't frantically heaving like they had been.

_She smelled the cigarette smoke first. "Bill? Is it you?" She whispered as she forced her eyes open wearily. This time was different, she was in agony, her lungs burned fiercely with every breath, each one felt like it could be her last._

_"Right here, kid." He sat in a chair next to the cot, but he looked almost like a 2D image, a bit out of focus, not like a solid, real person._

_"It's time, isn't it?...Told you…sucked at this…" A coughing spasm gripped her and she spit out more blood, it was complete agony, she felt like she was drowning very slowly as the blood filled her lungs. She couldn't even manage to cough it all out any more. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped it would be over quick, she couldn't do this any longer._

_"You're not done yet, kid. Anyway, ya done good. Everyone's still alive and kicking, right?" Another puff of smoke drifted over her._

_"Not sure… not much longer for me…this is some brutal shit…you didn't come…to take me out?" She coughed again, gasping at the deep pain that caused. Talking was difficult, tears of pain started to leak from her eyes as she squinted at him, his image blurring even more with the tears._

_"Nope, not my assignment. Just checking in on you. You can make it, just dig deep and hang in there. It ain't over yet and they still need you. Don't you quit on them..." He leaned toward her, elbows on his knees as he looked sternly at her._

_She looked at him with resignation as she shook her head, sadly accepting the fact that sheer will wasn't going to make a difference this time around. "Can't do it…too much to ask anyone...nobody survives forever…take a small miracle…to survive this." She gasped the words out as she looked back at him, pleading with him silently for his understanding on why she was done._

_"Yep. Good thing it's a small one." He gave her a grim smile as he reached out to place his palm on her forehead._

_She felt all of the pain just disappear, as if a switch had been flipped. A startling warmth washed over her when he touched her, and everything faded as she fell away from him and he disappeared from her sight in a swirl of blurred colors._

Doc awoke to to the feeling of something cold and wet dripping in her ear, she shook her head and instantly regretted doing that. Her head ached terribly, along with the rest of her body. She reached up and removed the cold wet cloth from her forehead and opened her eyes, shoving the mask off her face. She looked at the iron bars surrounding her and sighed, looked like she was locked up somewhere again, damn it. She used the bars to haul herself to sit up on the bed and looked around.

She was in a cell, but the door was wide open. In the next cell was Francis, swathed in bandages, snoring loudly. She swung her legs over the bed and tried to stand up, without success. She used the bars to drag herself to her feet, out the door and over to Francis. His head was heavily bandaged, it looked like he had a bad cut, blood had seeped through onto the pillow. He had road rash on one arm and temple as well as a bad cut across the bridge of his nose and was bruised all over. She sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed her hand across the bristly patch of his hair sticking through the bandages and put her hand on his shoulder. She was thrilled and relieved to find him alive, she had been sure Nick would settle his grudge with Francis and finish what the tank had started. He murmured and swatted his hand near his head, setting it back down and clutching her waist. She smiled, sighed and lay down alongside him, with her head on his shoulder. This felt much better, familiar and comforting. She drifted out of consciousness, coughing as the blood trickled down.

Louis came down to check on them, seeing that Doc had somehow made her way over to Francis and they were crammed together on one cot. He started to lift her to carry her back to the other cot, then changed his mind. It wouldn't hurt to leave her there, maybe it would help, they sure didn't have anything else helpful to offer her. He got a damp cloth to wipe the blood away, gently cleaning the blood now covering over Francis' tattoos. He found a clean towel to position under her head and put the oxygen and mask back on and left them, hoping the rest of the team were having better luck.

Francis awoke once more, feeling slightly better this time, as he realized that there was someone curled up against him. He eased himself up and looked down, he thought she looked a bit better, maybe less pale. There seemed to be less blood, and she wasn't heaving to breath at all anymore. He pulled up her shirt to look at the damage. She had a massive bruise covering her chest and the whole chest area felt a little spongy, the damn tank must have managed to hit her square in the chest, possibly breaking or fracturing bones, part of the trauma causing the bleeding into the lungs. He eased himself carefully out of the cot and stretched his sore body before going to look for the others.

"I told you so." Francis observed again as he frowned and helped himself to some pasta and a sports drink.

"We don't know that. Something could have happened to them. Maybe they ran into another tank!" Zoey replied to him, a bit heatedly.

"So now we only have the two bikes and, even better, FIVE people! I don't want to confuse you with all the complex fractions and what not, but that's one more than we can transport!" Francis responded with an angry scowl at her.

Louis sighed. "Well, we're not going anywhere for now. Doc isn't going anywhere for a long time. She needs to keep as still as possible, and maybe the internal injuries will resolve on their own. So we need to just sit tight and hopefully they'll be back soon."

Francis snorted in disbelief. "They ain't comin' back! They're long gone, along with our bikes and a good chunk of our ammo and supplies. Told you so. Was that the seventh or eighth one? I'm losin' track already, need to jot this down someplace."

"It's the tenth and give it a fucking rest, will you?" Zoey replied in a sharp whisper. "How would you feel?" She nodded toward Rochelle, who was standing across the room, her arms wrapped around herself tightly, her face tense and worried.

Francis shook his head, heaving out a sigh. "Ok, ok. I hope I'm wrong, but I don't think they're gonna come back. They're already way overdue."

Francis had learned that Ellis, Coach and Nick had taken two of the bikes to go further down the road to a larger town to see whether they could find more medical supplies or a doctor. They had been pretty sure at the time that Doc would need surgery and possibly Francis, as well. So they had left on the trip, but had not yet returned. Maybe they had run into some trouble and couldn't make it back, but Francis was willing to bet they just took off, ditching Rochelle. It made some sense, since they already knew that Rochelle wanted to be with Louis anyway. Zoey was upset at the idea that Ellis would take off without even a word to her. Francis finished eating, got some bottled water to bring back with him to his cot and went back down to the cells.

"Goddammit! Leave for two minutes, and look what happens!" Francis swore as he gathered Doc off the floor where he had just found her, unconscious. She'd apparently tried to get up and leave the cells, but had collapsed on the floor. The blood leaking out whenever she breathed seemed to have worsened again.

He brought her over to her cot and gently laid her down, positioning her onto her side and setting up the oxygen for her. He went back upstairs to rummage through the medical supplies. Finding what he was looking for, he headed back downstairs. They needed to keep her quiet and still. That was just never going to happen unless they sedated her. They would probably need to do it for at least a couple of days. There was a slim chance the bleeding would stop, if she would just stay quiet enough and let the damage heal. At this point, it was the only chance, since surgery was out of the question, they didn't have the supplies or the expertise. He set up the IV and ran it, then measured out a dose of sedative and injected it. He wondered just how hard she would kick his ass when she found out about it, but if she lived that long then it would be well worth it, Francis figured. He moved his cot in next to hers so that he could keep a closer eye on her. He took the opportunity to catch up on his sleep, there wasn't much else to be done at this point, as they waited to see whether she could recover.

The next several days passed slowly. Francis and Zoey rested and recovered while Louis and Rochelle helped tend the injured. They kept Doc as still and quiet as they could. The bleeding tapered off and eventually stopped, so they decided to stop sedating her and see whether they could get her slowly back on her feet without aggravating the injury.

Doc lay in bed, feeling weak and miserable. She had no idea how long she'd been there. She knew she'd been coughing up blood, the distinct metallic tang of the blood was pervasive. She knew it was serious, but that didn't stop her from wanting to get up. If it weren't for being unable to remain conscious for very long she would have done it already. She vaguely remembered having another weird Bill dream, but couldn't remember what he said to her.

Francis was sleeping in a cot next to her, one heavy arm flung over across her. She tried to sit up, but there was no way with Francis' arm pinning her down. She couldn't even manage to lift his arm. She sighed in frustration, this was totally pathetic, not to mention humiliating. Pinned down by an arm, for chrissakes! If there was anything she hated, it was feeling weak and helpless. She shook Francis' arm, hoping to wake him. She fell back onto the pillow, fuming silently.

"Francis! Francis! Wake up, dammit!" She gave him a slap on the arm and he finally began to stir. "C'mon, move your arm! If I'm stuck here one more minute, I'm gonna go nuts!"

Francis awoke with a startled grunt, then looked over at her. "Hey, darlin'. Welcome back to the land of the living. How ya doin'?" He drew his arm back and shifted to his side to face her.

"Just fantastic. I couldn't even lift your arm, that's how fantastic this is going!" She replied with an irritated scowl.

"You gotta start lookin' on the bright side here. You're still alive and I'm still incredibly handsome!" He gave her a lop-sided grin as he clapped her on the shoulder.

"And modest. All right, all right. You got a point. Shall I try to be unfailingly positive like Louis? It's gonna be kinda tough, I'm not really of the half-full persuasion…" She started to smile, knowing full well that would drive him up a wall.

"Nah, you don't need to go overboard on that shit. Just act at least a little bit pleased to still be in the realm of the living and we'll call it good." He grinned as he got up and leaned over to help her sit up on the edge of the cot. "Think ya can stand?"

"Hmm…no idea. Everything feels kind of numb. Give me a hand up and I'll see." She held out a hand, which he clasped as he carefully pulled her to her feet. She stood for a second before abruptly dropping like a rock back onto the cot.

"Whoa! Guess not. Goddamit! I'm really sick of laying around here." She frowned down at the cot as if it were to blame for her predicament.

"You just need to relax, rest and eat and drink a little and you'll be fine." Francis assured her as he patted her on the back. "I'll go get some stuff for you, be right back."

She fell back onto the pillow, exhausted from just sitting there. Francis returned with some instant mac and cheese and water and helped her eat and drink. He filled her in on the issue of the missing group members and the lost bikes and supplies.

"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter whether they took off or something else happened. If something happened it's probably way too late to help them. Once I'm able, I can probably try to track them and find out. Maybe by tomorrow, I don't know. I've never felt this wiped out before." She sipped some more water and tried to eat more, even though she felt too tired to chew.

"I'm not surprised. You lost a whole lot of blood, looked like you lost maybe 4 units. It'll take a while to recover from that." Francis noted she still looked very pale, there was no doubt she was down a few quarts.

She knew it would take weeks to recover from losing that much blood. She eyed him thoughtfully. "I'm O-negative, a universal donor. If there's another one in our group, a transfusion would speed things along. Why don't you find out if anybody else is and check that we have transfusion supplies? I think we should have enough stuff to make it work. If I could get a couple of units, I might be able to leave by tomorrow."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Now you're out for our blood, I see how it is. Why did I know it was only a matter of time? Anyway, I'm O-neg too. I'll see if anybody else is, maybe we can scrape 3 or 4 units up for you. Try to finish eating that and I'll be right back."

By the time he returned, bringing the transfusion supplies, she was sound asleep. He decided they might as well get started, she might wake up from the needle stick, but he doubted it. As it turned out, Rochelle was another O-negative, so he set her up first for the donation of 2 units. He had done this a few times before when he was with the Legion, so other than some difficulty finding a good vein on Doc, it went smoothly. She briefly woke up, since it took him several sticks to place the needle, but just fell straight back to sleep once he managed to slide it in place. Once Rochelle was done, he took her place and donated another 2 units. He finished up and looked down at Doc, she did look much better now, still a little pale but much closer to her normal color. They would just need to wait and see how she was doing tomorrow morning. He cleaned up and settled back down for the night, his arm eventually stretching across to her once more.

By the next morning, Doc was well enough to get up and slowly walk around. They discussed their next move over breakfast. Rochelle, Louis and Zoey were anxious to set off and try to find the others, while Francis felt it was too soon for Doc to travel. Doc decided to leave it up to them, she didn't want to hold the group back. They finally decided to get their things together and set off. With only two motorcycles and five people they needed the three lightest people to squeeze onto the Ducati, with Francis and Louis on the Fatboy. That left Zoey driving the Ducati, with Doc wedged between her and Rochelle. It was a tight fit, but at least Doc could rest as they traveled because Rochelle could hold her on the bike easily.

Francis roared out in the lead, heading in the direction the missing members of the group took. Zoey tentatively followed him. She wasn't used to the Ducati and was also a little worried about having two passengers on the bike. She was squished forward against the gas tank and it made everything a bit uncomfortable and awkward to shift and steer the bike.

The road was cluttered with wrecks and it took considerable time to work their way through them, pushing the bikes. After just a few hours of travel, they needed to take a long break to allow Doc some rest. Even mild exertion left her gasping for air and exhausted. They took shelter in an abandoned tour bus, taking turns on watch while the others napped. Francis needed the rest too, he was easily tired from pushing the Harley through the wrecks, since he wasn't back to full strength yet either.

They were able to go for another few hours after this until they came to another large road blockage. It looked as if a propane tanker and several other large trucks had wrecked, and the road was blocked by burnt, wrecked and abandoned vehicles as far as the eye could see. They took one look at that and realized their exhausted team would never be able to make it through by dark. They pushed their way forward until they came across several intact large tractor trailers, deciding to spend the night in the sleeper cabins and start fresh in the morning. They ate a quick dinner together and quickly went off to their respective beds after setting the watch shifts. Francis and Doc shared one, while Zoey and Rochelle shared another, with Louis sleeping in the front cab of the truck.

Francis helped Doc up into the truck and bed. She was too tired to even take her boots off or change clothes. She just fell to the bed in complete exhaustion. Francis took his boots off and then took hers off too. He collapsed on the bed next to her and they fell instantly asleep.

The next morning they had a quick meal before continuing to push themselves and their bikes through the wreckage. Doc seemed to be steadily recovering, at least she didn't seem to be gasping for breath as much. They finally came to some clear road in the early afternoon and were able to ride along for a while. They came upon several patches of wrecked and abandoned vehicles before coming to an exit. They decided to take the exit and check out the small town, maybe they would see some evidence that the others had passed that way.

The town was eerily deserted, no zombies and no bodies decomposing in the weak sunlight. They drove slowly through it before deciding to take shelter in a small Red Cross building. They parked the bikes in a small garage structure behind the building. Francis easily broke into the place with his axe. They brought all their gear and supplies in, then started to set up for the night.

Francis scraped a meal together from their supplies, beef stew and camp biscuits, which were eagerly devoured. They set the watch shifts and retired to rest once more. Francis and Doc took a small side room, rolling a couple of the beds together, while the others took some beds and set them up in the main lounge area. They found some huge jugs of water stored in a closet, so at least they could clean up a bit.

Doc and Francis were too exhausted to do much beyond sleep, but the privacy of their own room was welcome anyway. Francis was quick to strip out of his filthy clothing, wash up and lie down on some clean sheets, while she settled for changing into a clean t-shirt after washing up in the sink and finally getting a chance to wash her hair. He pulled her toward him, pushing his hand under the shirt to stroke her soft skin while she lay tucked against him. They fell almost instantly into a dreamless sleep, as a cold wind and swirled through the darkness in the little town.


	29. Deadly Detour

After a quick breakfast the next morning, they got their gear together and got back on the motorcycles. Doc was feeling better and insisted on driving for a while, she was pretty tired of being smothered in the middle spot, she'd rather be squished up against the gas tank any day instead. They headed back out onto the main road, noting again the absence of any zombies, bodies or even abandoned vehicles along the road.

As they rode, Doc noticed a cloud of birds in the distance. They seemed to be clustered over one area. As they got closer, they began to see occasional corpses scattered on and near the road, as well as some abandoned military vehicles. Soon they were close to where the birds screeched and circled. There was a deeply rutted dirt road going off toward the area where the birds were concentrated. Doc pulled over near the dirt road, Francis pulled over behind her and they all looked at each other as they stared down the path.

"Well, at the risk of being overly curious, I'm going to go check it out", Doc said, looking at the others, "I think this is something that might be important".

"Hell, NO!", Francis said with a frown, "Why go looking for trouble? It's not on our direct route, we don't need to go down there."

"Well, I'm going. You coming or what? You guys can wait here if you want, the Ducati is the only one that can go down this", she replied to Francis, as she patted the seat behind her.

Francis crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "No way, no! Are you kiddin' me?"

She shrugged and revved the bike, "Suit yourself, I'll be back in a few…"

"Don't you fuckin' dare…" Francis warned with a frown. With a disgusted huff, he swung a leg over behind her, and gripped her hips in his big hands. His weight made the bike hunker low against the ground. He was so tall his knees practically made arm rests, perched next to her on each side.

"Hang on a sec," she set the stand and jumped off, quickly adjusting the gas shock for the added weight. She jumped back on and they set off. She guided the bike smoothly and skillfully over the bumpy road, giving it a quick burst of speed when they came to smooth sections. She pulled the bike over into the cover of some shade once they were close to where all the birds were gathered and they got off.

Doc crept quietly up the road, sticking to the edge as she watched the birds flying in and out. They came to a clearing, what apparently was a dump site at one time. A number of army troop transport trucks sat abandoned near a bulldozer and some excavators. Birds swirled and dived into a pit filled with bodies. Doc and Francis looked on horrified, the bodies were clearly not zombies but people. The army had transported people there and buried them in a mass grave. They could see clustered groups that looked like whole families, men, women and children. There were also piles of soldier's bodies in the pit. They stared at each other in mute horror. Doc quickly circled the pit, looking in the abandoned vehicles, trying to make sense out of what happened here.

"Let's get the hell out of here", she said grimly to Francis. They went back to the bike, and Doc stood back and gestured for Francis to do the honors of driving. He couldn't help but grin, he'd felt like an idiot perched back there behind her. He adjusted the shock to its maximum height and got on, as she climbed on behind him, holding his hips and molding herself up against his back. He could get to like this, he thought, feeling her tight against him as he sped the bike back up the road. He could see why she liked this thing, it just begged to be flung down the road at top speed, the quickness and agility of the bike was undeniable.

Behind him, she laid her head against his back and closed her eyes. It was actually pretty nice back here, she was thinking. She had never really trusted anybody enough to relax behind them, but she trusted him. Eyes closed, she smiled softly as she thought about it. It was a very weird feeling to her, completely trusting someone like this.

His lips turned up slightly at the corners when he felt her lay her head against him. Yeah, he could get to liking this bike, it had its attractions. They quickly made their way back to the others and let them know what they had seen.

Doc found it very disturbing. It looked as if somebody, presumably the military, had rounded up evacuees and executed them at the pit. But why? And why were there so many soldiers in the pit?

"I guess that explains the empty town and lack of infected. They took everyone away and killed them. I don't really understand. It makes no sense to me". Doc voiced her thoughts. Francis shook his head, it made no sense to him either. She thought back to the backroom of the bar with the bikers shot dead. Somebody had been executing people, but who and why?

They returned to their respective rides and headed down the road. Doc let Zoey pilot the bike, the little side trip had left her tired and weakened. They eventually came to the outskirts of a town and pulled over. They decided to hide the bikes and supplies in a warehouse there, and walk in to the town. Thanks to the loud racket from the Harley, if there was anyone or anything alive in the town, they already knew they had company.

Doc scanned the road carefully, paying particular attention to areas with sand and debris in the road. Finally, she elbowed Francis and pointed out some motorcycle tracks.

"Think it's them?" Francis asked, looking closely at the tracks.

"Pretty sure. Looks like the tread I recall being on the sportster. At least we know they came through this way. Whether they stopped somewhere in here, I don't know." She replied as she followed the tracks to where they disappeared on the asphalt.

They entered the town and were thrilled to see a safe-room sign with an arrow right away. It looked like they had made it on this leg of their journey without any serious problems. They were really on a roll, Doc was thinking. Maybe if they were really lucky, they would find the missing members in the safe-room.

They filed into the warehouse indicated by the sign, all looking forward to a decent meal and some rest. The instant they heard safeties click off and shotgun shells being racked, they knew they were screwed.

"Throw your weapons on the ground, NOW! Hands in the air!" a deep voice bellowed at them. Doc had whipped an arrow into her bow and drew it back the second she heard a click. Her eyes darted around, looking at the five men with weapons. The others dropped their weapons, but Doc was still standing with bow drawn and aimed. Francis hissed at her, "No chance! Put it down!" She released the tension on the bow and threw it down, looking warily at the men, she raised her hands. The men closed in on them, kicking the weapons away.

"All weapons, throw them down now!" one of the men commanded. Francis threw down a Magnum and his knife, while Louis threw down a pair of M1911s and Zoey threw a small knife and a Magnum down, while Rochelle threw down her sidearm. Doc threw down her Desert Eagle and combat knife. She glanced sideways at Francis, who glared at her open-eyed and jerked his chin toward the ground.

With a sigh, she started tossing her knives down, until all of her knives and other weapons were piled in front of her. The men had been staring at her wordlessly as she dumped her arsenal. While doing this, she managed to get her wire pick and shove it in her mouth, pretending to cough worked wonders. Once she was finished, they ordered her to get on her knees with her hands on her head. One of the men cautiously approached her and put his assault rifle under her ear, ordering one of the other men to strip her and cuff her. She frowned at Francis, why the hell did he think it would make a difference whether she concealed weapons or not? She was going to be stripped and searched no matter what she did. The usual surprise and amazement ensued when the men realized she was a woman. She just rolled her eyes. It didn't keep them from taking her shirt, pants and boots. She was glad she had at least found underwear that they let her keep, after squeezing and feeling every inch of it. She guessed she should be thankful they didn't do a cavity search, she thought morosely as she marched along with the others.

They were loaded into a van and made to sit on the floor while the guards sat on a bench, weapons trained on them. The guards didn't speak to them or answer their questions, just watched them closely. After about 20 minutes, the van stopped and they were unloaded and marched into a large empty room lined with benches. The guards handcuffed each of them to a bench and all but two of them left. The guards wouldn't allow them to talk. When Francis ignored their instructions, a guard walked over to him and smacked him in the shoulder with a rifle butt. They got the idea and shut up.

A well-dressed man entered the room, along with a man dressed in medical scrubs. The man in medical scrubs examined each of them closely, reaching out to turn their heads or lift their shirts. He looked carefully at Louis' leg, and examined Doc's hunter wounds, murmuring in surprise at the horrible bruising visible on her chest. He did the same with Francis, he examined some scratches and bites on Zoey and Rochelle as well. He turned to the older man saying, "They're all exposed, wounds are old and new, they're carriers."

The older man, obviously in charge, addressed them, "I'm terribly sorry for the strict welcome you've received, but we can't be too careful. We only allow carriers into our colony, we needed to be sure you wouldn't become infected. Please forgive us. I'm sure you're hungry and tired, we're getting a dinner ready for you. Please accept my invitation to dinner. I can answer any of the questions you might have then."

Doc looked at him warily before saying, "Do we have a choice? Can we leave if we want to?"

The man smiled coldly at her, "Of course. You're welcome to stay here if you prefer. I'm afraid the gates are closed for the night, but you can leave in the morning if you wish. I hope you will reconsider, this is one of the few safe places that carriers can live without fear of army or government extermination. Our little colony is trying to expand, and anybody who wants to stay here with us is welcome." He nodded to the guards, "You can uncuff them and bring them to the dining room when they're ready. Please bring the young lady here something decent to wear." He looked Doc up and down with clear disapproval. She returned an unfriendly stare.

The man left and they were freed, the armed guards remained in the room watching them as they gathered together. Doc whispered to them, "I think we should pass on the dinner and try to leave here tomorrow. I have a bad feeling about this place, every warning alarm in my head is going off right now."

Francis agreed, "Somethin's not right, my spidey-sense is going off too."

Zoey and Louis, however, argued with them. "Come on guys, this is exactly what we've been looking for! We've found a colony of survivors where we fit in, we can't just walk away without checking it out!" Zoey whispered urgently.

"I can. I don't like how this started and I have a feeling I'm really not going to like how it ends. I wonder if these guys had anything to do with the burial pit we came across. I'm telling you, this place doesn't pass the smell test!" Doc insisted.

"Well, we're here. We might as well eat and find out more about the place, we can always leave tomorrow if we don't like it." Louis replied.

"So he said. Whether that's true or not, who the hell knows." hissed Doc, glancing over at the guards.

A man came in carrying a cloth bundle, handing it over to Doc. She unfolded it, a shapeless, worn, gray dress greeted her eyes. "Wow, this is possibly the ugliest thing I've ever seen in my life. Wonder where they got it, Sacks Fifth Alley? Why can't they just give me my own damned clothes back? I hate dresses!" She flung the dress down on the bench in disgust.

Francis rolled his eyes at her and gently placed his hand on the back of her neck, trying to calm her. "Just put the damned thing on, ok? Let's not make a federal case out of it."

Doc crossed her arms, "I'll pay you to switch clothes with me. I'm not kidding, I'll give you anything you want, just name it. Don't worry, I can definitely rock the vest." She flexed her biceps, very impressive for a woman but laughable in comparison to Francis.

Francis crossed his arms over his chest and gave her his best lewd smirk, "Anything I want, huh? I'm tempted, but no. Not my size, anyway, sorry." Louis and Zoey snickered at their exchange.

Giving a snort of disgust, she shoved the dress on. "I look like some sort of 18th century serf, or holocaust inmate, for chrissakes. Just based on this hideous clothing, I can tell you this is not going to work out. I'm not exactly a fashionista, but goddamn…" She held her arms out, looking down with a scowl.

Francis just shook his head, unsuccessfully trying to smother his laughter. He couldn't help it, she was right. It was incredibly ugly and too big, she looked like some sort of orphan from a poverty stricken country. She frowned and punched him really hard in the shoulder. He staggered back a bit, still laughing. The guards looked at them curiously, apparently most of their guests didn't do a lot of laughing.

Another man came in and announced, "Dinner is ready if you would like to join us. Please follow me."

They looked at each other, Zoey and Louis began to follow the man, Francis went next, looking at Doc and shrugging his shoulders as he followed after them. She hesitated for a moment, then trailed along behind them. Well, Bill did say to trust them, she thought to herself grimly.

They followed into a large dining hall. It appeared to be divided into two sections, one with all the men, the other where all the women seemed to be seated. They passed through this large dining area into a more private area in back. The older man who they had met before was there, along with several other men. Doc quickly noticed that there were six guards positioned around the room. She didn't see weapons, but these were big, beefy guys who clearly served as bodyguards or security.

There were places set for them at a table, they went ahead and stood next to the seats, waiting for the host to sit down. He smiled and motioned to them to sit. They all ended up across the table from the older man and his companions. He introduced himself as the head of the colony and told them his name was Warren. He introduced the others, they served in various administrative roles for the colony. He welcomed them and signaled for the food to be served. Female servers brought in platters of chicken, hamburger casserole, salad, cornbread, potatoes, squash and corn. A server also poured out water and some wine for each of them. Francis heaped food on his plate, as did Louis, Rochelle and Zoey. Doc only took a little, she picked at the food, pushing it around.

"I'm so glad you could join us, I'm glad you were able to make it here. We're a colony of people immune to the virus, trying to eradicate the infected and take back our country. We are trying to start a new society, and we are always welcoming new members", Warren began speaking.

"I noticed that you have segregated dining for the men and the women. Why is that? Is there a religious aspect to your colony?" Doc asked, declining to beat around the bush.

"You are very observant", Warren replied, giving her a sharp look. "Yes, in order to keep a certain level of order, we do separate men from women for dining and sleeping. It helps to prevent friction, we find. We do not have a specific religious affiliation, our organization is governed by elders like myself."

"How do people contribute to your society? Does everybody have a specific job, and how is that determined?" Doc again fired a question off. Her companions seemed satisfied to let her conduct the inquisition.

"We assign people to jobs depending on their expertise. Everybody needs to contribute something." Warren replied, beginning to frown at her line of questioning.

"I see. And if they don't want to work or aren't able to? Then what happens?" Doc asked with an innocent expression.

"Well, I suppose they would be strongly encouraged to contribute." He answered her, giving her a piercing look.

She nodded, then asked, "So how do you deal with couples or even families? Surely they can't really be segregated like the others?"

Warren pressed his lips together in an expression of irritation as he answered, "Of course we make allowances for established couples. Several of our elders here have their own housing with their families". His companions nodded in agreement, glancing nervously at him.

"So on our way over here, we ran across a big burial pit. It looked like whole families had been executed and we also found quite a few soldiers in the pit. What do you know about that?" Doc surprised them all with that question.

Warren and the other elders blanched and looked nervously at each other. Warren shot her a furious glance before he regained control and tried to give her a disarming smile. "Really? This is the first I've heard about it. It could be the army executed them and then got rid of some of their own for objecting." He shrugged. "These are crazy times, it's impossible to tell what might have happened in that clearing."

Doc gave him a sharp look. She hadn't said anything about a clearing, it was obvious he knew exactly what she was talking about. Why was he lying? And why did the other men practically stroke out when she asked about it? They knew more than they would admit, that was clear.

The meal was almost over. Everyone else had nearly finished eating. Doc had been careful to make it look like she was eating and drinking like the others, but she hadn't actually touched a thing. She didn't trust these people at all.

Some dessert was brought out, as well as coffee. The serving women collected the plates and left. Francis, Rochelle, Louis and Zoey helped themselves to dessert and coffee. Doc passed on the dessert and pretended to drink the coffee. She noticed that Warren kept darting glances at them, she caught him staring at her a few times. She surreptitiously shot a glance at him, noticing a small smile creeping to his face. She wondered what he was so pleased about and looked around at her companions.

Her eyes widened in alarm. Louis' head had fallen down on his chest, as if he had suddenly fallen asleep. Rochelle's eyes were glazed and empty looking and she had slumped over against Louis, while Zoey looked mildly dazed, her coffee cup slipping from her nerveless fingers. Francis looked worst of all. He looked completely out of it and was swaying, close to toppling over. He collapsed, his head hitting the table with a thud, his eyes wide open. She looked back at Warren in alarm, he was giving her a little smirk.

"Looks like your little friend here has had a bit too much, wouldn't you say? He's a big one, we had to give him a little extra bump." He laughed as he reached over and flicked Francis on the cheek with his fingers.

Doc jumped to her feet, and the guards closed in on her. Her first thought was just to escape, she couldn't help them right now, she just needed to get away. The guards advanced on her and tried to grab her. She gave one a jumping roundhouse kick to the head, and a 360 roundhouse to the next man, kicking him so hard he stumbled backward across the room. Another man rushing at her received a crescent kick to the head, while the fourth man, who tried to grab her from behind, received a jumping back kick to the groin. She began to breathe heavily, she was in no condition for this kind of fighting. The two remaining guards tried to team up against her. They clearly had some martial arts experience, they expertly slid away from her attack, but when they launched a counterattack, they found themselves quickly outmatched as she mixed techniques from various martial arts, throwing one guard across the room and breaking the arm of the remaining man as she upended him into the ground. She started to feel really winded, sucking air in as fast as her damaged lungs would allow. The other guards had now had a chance to recover and began to close in on her, but she hit them in a final burst of energy like a whirlwind. In a flurry of kicks and throws the men were incapacitated. Gasping for air, she bolted for a window, ready to jump straight through it.

"Enough!" Warren roared at her, "Get on the ground or he dies, and so do your other friends!" She skidded to a stop at the window and looked toward him. He had a cocked Magnum pressed into Francis' temple.

Her shoulders slumped as she looked at him, her sides heaving in exhaustion. Most of the guards had recovered and began to circle her, along with reinforcements from the other room. She turned in a circle, trapped. She could see they couldn't wait to pound the crap out of her, she had embarrassed them in front of their boss. She sighed and sank to her knees, as they descended on her. She didn't fight back, there was no fight left in her. She was beaten to the ground and lay panting as she just tried to avoid the strikes. She finally rolled into a tight ball as punches and kicks rained down on her. Finally, one of them landed a hard kick to her head and she went limp. The beating continued for a little while longer, until they finally realized she wasn't feeling any of it and noticed the blood bubbling from her lips.

Francis watched all of this in bleary slow motion. He collapsed on the table, it was like his muscles didn't work any more, but he was still completely awake. He'd done his share of drugs back in the day, but he'd never encountered anything like this. He could see and hear, but he couldn't move at all and time seemed to crawl by.

After flicking his cheek, Warren chuckled next to him, speaking to the others at the table, "Wow! Look at her go! She is amazing. An obnoxious bitch, but amazing. She's pretty hot when she's angry…look at that! Whoa…how the hell did she even do that?! She's going to make an incredible breeder, she'll give us some really athletic kids. We might have to tie her down or knock her out to get it done, but that's not a deal breaker for me. I might keep this one for myself. The others are really nice, too. That one's very pretty and young, she's a great addition. Everyone is going to want a piece of her. The other is fine looking too, and young enough. This big brute will be perfect for the work camp. We've got some nice keepers here."

Francis fumed helplessly as he listened. If that bastard thought he was going to do that to Doc, he better think again. It didn't end up well for the last jerk that tried that. Francis watched as she tried to get away, watching as she took out the guards. He would have smiled if he could have. They needed more guards to take her on, for sure. Even injured and weak, she was totally destroying them. He cursed to himself when he felt the muzzle of the gun pressed against his head. He willed her to keep going and get away, even though he knew she wouldn't. He watched as she knelt on the ground and got the living hell beaten out of her, again. She really did make a bad habit of that, he fuzzily thought to himself. That asshole, Warren, didn't even try to call his guards off, chuckling as they beat her unconscious. After they finished with her, he and the others were dragged away. He was thrown in a dark cell and lay there, helplessly staring into the dark, wondering what was going to happen to them and what they were doing to her.


	30. A Light in the Dark

She felt sharp pain, deep inside. Heavy pressure and cramping that burned to her core. She came awake with a groan, feeling something pressing hard against her abdomen. It felt like somebody was trying to push their hand through her belly into her spine. She groaned again and finally managed to open her eyes, seeing masked faces leaning over her. Her arms and legs were restrained, she couldn't move, couldn't get away from the intense pain. Her whole body lurched as she startled fully awake and automatically tried to jerk away from the pain. Somebody yelled out, "She's awake!" Another voice spoke soothingly, "You're ok, you're ok…we're doing an ultrasound, try not to move, relax, it's going to be ok." She groaned again, the pain was incredible, her stomach heaved and she clenched her eyes and jaws shut as the room spun. She felt a pinch at her elbow, something warm spreading through her arm. She felt another tearing pain deep inside as she fell back into unconsciousness.

When she woke next, she was in a hallway, restrained on a bed. Her arms and legs were bound by heavy buckled restraints, she couldn't move at all. Her body ached all over, her head ached badly too. She spat out some blood, it looked like the bleeding into the lungs had started up again. She felt terribly thirsty, really shaky, and her mouth was cottony. She looked around, she couldn't tell if it was night or day. She worried about Francis and the others. Was he still even alive? She struggled against the restraints, trying to wriggle her arms free, as waves of pain and nausea returned and she passed out again.

She woke once more, groaning. She didn't know how long she'd been there, but from the way her back felt, aching and numb, she guessed it had been many hours, maybe even a day. She was still strapped to the bed, an IV taped to her arm and oxygen on now, in a small room. After a while, a woman wearing green scrubs entered, carrying a plastic tote.

She smiled at Doc, "Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling?"

Doc eyed her warily, "Really lousy. Can you untie me? This is really hurting me, I need to change positions, at least."

"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to do that. Your orders are for full restraints at all times due to combativeness", the woman replied as she got ready to inject something into the IV. "Here's something to help you sleep and relax, ok?"

"No, no, no! Wait, wait, please! I've had a broken back, I can't lie on it like this, it's very painful. I just need to shift over onto my side. Please!" she pleaded with the woman.

"I'll talk to the doctors, see what they say, ok? This will help you feel better", the woman said as she injected a syringe full of something into the IV.

"No, wait, please! Can you tell me where my friends are? What happened to them? Please tell me, are they ok?" she asked, as a warm heaviness settled on her and her lips grew numb. She tried to keep her eyes open, but they defied her and kept closing until finally she went under again.

Francis woke to find himself still in the dark, but now his hands and feet were manacled, chained to his waist, and some sort of metal collar had been clamped tightly around his neck. He tried to stand, but found he could not, the collar had been chained to the floor. He could sit or lie down, but that was it. His head ached like he'd been on a three day bender and he was thirsty as hell. He felt along the chains, trying to find some way he could pull or pry the chain from the floor, but it was no use. He lay back down, staring into the darkness, worrying.

The door finally opened, letting in the light. He squinted, unable to make anything out for a while. A flashlight shone in his face, blinding him.

"How ya feelin'?" A gruff voice enquired. He could hear a scraping noise as something was set on the floor. "Here's some water, you're probably thirsty, right?" The voice with the flashlight retreated, and he heard a door open and close. A small light was hung from the door and, after a while, he could make out a pitcher set on the floor. He reached over and drank from it, it seemed ok, so he drank it down. He set the pitcher on the floor with a sigh and lay back down. He started to feel a little dizzy and disoriented, wondering briefly if they'd drugged the water before he abruptly fell unconscious.

The next time he awoke he found himself still chained up, still in the dark. With a sigh he sat up and waited, resolving not to eat or drink anything offered to him, he was sick of being doped into compliance by these people.

Eventually the door opened, letting in the light and several dark shapes. One of the shapes directed a flashlight at him.

"Get on your knees, don't move!" a man's voice rang out in the small room. He did as he was told, the light still shining in his eyes. Hands fumbled at his waist, then his hands were yanked behind his back and cuffed together. His neck was jerked down as the chain was detached from the floor. A hood was shoved over his head and he was yanked to his feet and pushed forward. He stumbled forward, it was hard to walk without being able to see anything. He was forced to follow the tug of the chain on his neck, he was being taken somewhere like a dog on a leash. He growled and swore in irritation and received a sharp yank on the chain in return.

"Keep your mouth shut and do what you're told or you're gonna get hurt. We don't wanna hurt you, but we will", the man's voice informed him. "Got it?" The chain was yanked again, so he nodded, indicating he understood. He was forced to walk in this manner for maybe half an hour, he wasn't really sure. There were several men walking with him, they talked occasionally and helped him along by the chain on his waist or his arms as he stumbled on the uneven footing. Finally, they helped him up some stairs and into a building. The chains rattled, he heard a lock snap shut, his hands were released from behind him and reattached in front, and the hood was ripped off his head. He looked around, but couldn't make much out, it was dark and the only light came from the flashlights of the men leaving the room. His collar was chained to a big post next to a bunk, the only furniture in the room. There was a plastic pitcher of water on the floor next to the bunk and that was it. With a sigh, he dumped the water out, even though he was thirsty, then sat on the bed and waited and worried. He didn't know where he was, what was going on, or where the others were. This was even worse than the situation back at the military compound, at least he had been with Louis then. It suddenly struck him that he was no longer the independent, lone wolf tough guy he once was. He missed the others and wanted, actually wanted badly, to have them with him. He cursed, being in a group had made him weak and dependent, he needed to pull himself together right now otherwise he would be completely screwed.

He realized that he needed to get it together and come up with a plan, the others needed him, too. And where the hell was Doc and what were they doing to her? He wasn't even sure she survived the severe beat down they gave her, but she was tough as hell, so he hoped. After what Warren had said, he had a sinking feeling that she was in much worse trouble than he was. Eventually he fell back on the bed and finally fell into a troubled sleep.

Doc woke up to more pain in her abdomen. Hands pushed and probed deeply pushing into her stomach and her side. Opening her eyes she saw a young woman in scrubs bent over her. The woman looked over her shoulder, speaking to a young man, "It feels ok, I think we got it, the bleeding seems to have stopped."

"Umm…hello? What feels ok and what's bleeding?" Doc asked thickly through still numb lips.

The woman looked at her in surprise, "Oh, hello there! There was some internal bleeding, but we managed to get it stopped. Your baby's ok, so don't worry, everything's good there."

Doc just stared at her in confusion and disbelief. "My…my…my…WHAT?! You must have the wrong person! I can't be pregnant, it's not even possible!"

The young woman grinned at her, "Well, I grant you it was pretty unlikely, from what I saw, but trust me, I know a fetus when I see one on an ultrasound, plus your blood work came back positive. Congratulations! Do you know how far along you are?

Doc shook her head, she had no idea. It wasn't supposed to be possible. She'd been told many years ago that there was no chance of a pregnancy, no need for birth control anymore. Her face blanched. A baby? Under these circumstances? And Francis, what about Francis? She didn't know where he was or if he was even alive.

"You don't look very happy. What's wrong? You're really going to be fine, we've got excellent care for pregnant women and you'll have good facilities for the delivery", the young woman looked at her in puzzlement.

"Can you tell me where they took the people that came in with me? One of them is the father, I just want to know if he's ok. Please tell me where he is…" She was desperate to know whether he was still alive.

"I don't know, they didn't say anything when they brought you in. They just said you had gotten into a brawl with some guards and were injured and dangerous. We found that you had a concussion, cracked ribs and internal bleeding. We did an ultrasound for the bleeding and repair and discovered the baby. You took one hell of a beating, we thought you might miscarry. You shouldn't try to fight with those men, you're just going to get hurt", she shook her head as she replied. "Anyway, I'll see if anyone knows where they took him. What's he look like?"

"Giant of a man, about 6 ½ feet, tattoos all over, mustache and a goatee. I really need to see him, if they can let him visit." Doc answered her.

The woman shook her head with a frown. "I doubt they'll let him. If he's a big guy like that, he's probably out on one of the work crews. We never even see them unless they've been injured on the job."

"Well, so now what? When can you take the restraints off and when can I get out of here? My back was broken years ago, I can't lay on it like this. I need to be on my side. I won't be able to even walk if this keeps up", Doc grimaced in pain as she tried to shift around.

The woman hesitated, then unbuckled one arm to roll her on her side and look at her back. Her fingers traced over the scars and probed the repaired spine. She rolled her back and buckled her arm back into the restraint. She looked at Doc with a frown, "I'll bring it up and see what they want to do. I can't promise anything. Whatever you did, they seem to be worried about you. I've never seen them treat a woman like this before." She grabbed up her supplies and got ready to leave, taking another syringe out.

Doc sighed as she said, "Really? Is that necessary? This is getting really old, you know. I only get to be conscious for a few minutes per day, or every other day, who the hell even knows? How damn long is this going to go on, until you run out of drugs, od me or starve me to death?"

The woman shook her head, "Sorry, it's in the orders, I have to do it now, but I'll see if I can get it changed. You don't seem unruly and combative to me. I have no idea why they're insisting on this level of sedation. Look on the bright side, at least you won't be in pain for a while. You'll be getting a feeding tube soon, if they plan on continuing the sedation, so you don't need to worry about starving." She pushed the meds into the IV and in no time at all, Doc felt the warm sensation and quickly drifted again.

When she next woke, she found that the restraints had been removed and replaced with handcuffs and that she was propped up with pillows on her side. She smiled, the first part of her plan was coming together. Her hands were handcuffed together through the top rail, ankles handcuffed together to the bottom rail. True to the doctor's word, they had put in a nasogastric tube, which she couldn't wait to get rid of. Now she just needed to wait for night and hope they stopped the sedation routine.

A while later, a nurse came in to check on her. She pretended to still be unconscious, not reacting to the light pinch to her arm, and no further sedatives were given to her. She wasn't sure, but from the sounds in the halls, it seemed like it was getting quieter. She spit the pick, which she had hidden tucked up next to the gums, out and soon had it in her hands, picking the cuffs open. She was glad that they hadn't found it and that she hadn't managed to aspirate it while unconscious. Once her hands were free, she picked the cuffs on her ankles. She quickly yanked out all the tubing, she tried not to gag up the contents of her stomach in the process, without success. Getting stiffly to her feet, her back screamed in protest and she nearly buckled and fell to the floor. She stretched her back and legs, twisting and stretching as she tried to get everything back in working order. She carefully opened the door and peered down the hall, before swiftly moving into a nearby utility closet. Inside she found piles of scrubs and other supplies. She grabbed some scrubs and put them on, keeping the Johnny as a robe. She didn't really like her chances just wandering barefoot through the halls. She scanned the room, and smiled when she found what she was looking for. This was almost too easy, she thought to herself. She climbed up the racks, pulled the vent cover off and entered the vent system. It was like a private little route right through the hospital. She stopped and picked up a few supplies as she passed through, until finally she made her way to an external vent. Just her luck, it was on the second floor. There was a narrow window ledge next to her and an overhang for a door just below it, so she worked her way along the ledge over to the overhang and carefully jumped down.


	31. Off the Chain

She crept through the colony compound, circling around the enclosing barrier, looking for a way out. It didn't take long, she soon found a vehicle parked near the fence and used it to climb to the top and jump down on the other side. It was still pitch dark out, she had no idea what time it was. It was also pretty damned cold, she needed to find someplace to hole up until it was light enough out for her to look around. She found a small overhang with a large bed of leaves underneath it, and dug in, shivering as she waited for it to get light. In spite of the cold, she fell asleep for a little while.

The bone aching shivering woke her up early the next morning, her bare feet freezing. Carefully looking around her, she crept from her leaf nest. Moving as swiftly as she could, she started circling the compound, hoping to cut the trail for the work camp. She new exactly what Francis' boot print looked like, she'd seen it often enough. If they walked him out of there, she was sure she would be able to track him. She was hoping they hadn't used a vehicle, but if they did, she would just have to follow any fresh vehicle tracks.

She had almost completed her circle of the colony when she cut the trail and found Francis' prints. He was taking unusually small steps, stumbling a lot. She could also see marks from a chain dragging and hoped the stumbling was from the restraints and that he wasn't hurt. Escape would be one hell of a lot harder if he was. She carefully followed his trail, keeping all of her senses alert for anybody else also using the trail. She came to a group of cabins in the woods and carefully observed it from a distance crouched under the heavy brush. It looked like everyone was in some sort of covered dining area, eating breakfast. The men all wore chains, they seemed to be chained together in groups. Well, that was going to make things difficult. There appeared to be a couple of armed guards for each group. She couldn't see Francis anywhere. He had to be here somewhere, she knew it was his prints she followed, the depth of the impressions and characteristic slight pronation on one side were unmistakable. She watched and waited.

Soon the men were lining up in their groups and starting off down a dirt trail. Finally, the guards went off into a couple of the cabins and emerged with Francis, and four other men. She almost swore out loud in surprise when she recognized two of the other men brought out. It was Nick and Ellis, looking exhausted and beat up. They chained them all together in a line, using an ankle chain. Francis seemed ok, he just looked confused and was having a hard time working out how he needed to walk with the other guys on the chain. The guards pushed and prodded him, she could tell he was getting frustrated. She followed, carefully keeping back and well into cover. The men were logging wood and milling lumber. Some of them were working on trying to hack paths through the woods to drag the logs through. Others were hacking trees down and dragging the logs to the portable mill. Francis' group was working on making paths for the horses they were using to help drag the logs down. She carefully hid herself in deep brush away from where the men were working and settled in to watch and wait. She had no idea how she could possibly break him out of a chain gang unobserved, it just wasn't possible.

Francis woke to someone yanking his chain, literally. It was morning and they had unchained him from the post and were yanking him to his feet. He snarled and swore at the men, he was never the most pleasant in the morning and these guys were really pissing him off. One of the men smiled and belted him in the gut, before shoving his rifle next to his head. "Get going and keep your fuckin' attitude to yourself. We don't put up with any bullshit here."

Francis glared at the man and allowed them to lead him out the door. He planned on breaking out of this shit the first chance he got. They chained him to a group of other men, he was shocked to see Nick and Ellis. He glared at Nick, the fact that Nick hadn't killed him for some reason while he lay unconscious on the ground had not exactly left him with a warm and fuzzy feeling for the guy. Nick was probably going to do it, just got interrupted. Nick gave him an unfriendly glare back, as Ellis looked from one to the other nervously. The clear animosity between the two men was troubling to Ellis.

Once chained all together, they marched out to the work site. It was tough trying to time and size his steps to the other men, his normal stride was a lot bigger than theirs. It just served to increase the level of frustration he was feeling to the boiling point. They gave him a pickaxe and he was expected to hack roots and clear brush to make a path for logging. He worked alongside the other men, looking around and trying to figure out a way to escape. After a while, he realized he had no plan, there was just no way to do this. Pissed off, he threw his axe to the ground. Nick hissed at him, "Pick it up, you stupid, greasy gorilla! You're gonna get us all punished!"

He flipped him off and crossed his arms. "Go fuck yourself, Nick!" He sneered back at him.

Nick picked the axe up and angrily threw it at him, when he didn't pick it up, Nick walked over and took a swing at him with his shovel.

Francis smiled, he was actually looking forward to busting him up, he was totally fed up with everything and looking to unload on somebody. Nick would do very nicely. He ducked the shovel and belted him in the jaw, he went down like he'd been pole axed. Francis grabbed the dazed man off the ground, ready to punch him again. Ellis jumped on his back, trying to stop him, and he plucked him off and threw him to the ground. He was just getting ready to jump on him when the guards intervened. One of them bashed him with the butt of his rifle in the back, he fell forward then turned to go for the guard, only to see the working end of a shotgun leveled at him.

The guard smiled at him, "Looks like this fellow needs to be taught what we do with troublemakers out here…" He suddenly clubbed Francis in the head with the butt of the gun and he fell face first to the ground, unconscious. The guard unchained him from the other men and with the help of another guard, they chained him to a nearby tree with his hands behind him.

Doc cringed as she saw Francis get clubbed and knocked out. Seemed like he was as bad as she was, they just couldn't seem to pass up on the opportunity to have their ass handed to them. After a while, Francis came to. He sat against the tree frowning.

Whenever there was a break called, the men from his crew passed by and punched him. Most of them didn't appear to punch him very hard, but each time it was Nick's turn, he smirked at Francis and buried a punch in his gut as hard as he could. It doubled Francis over and he glared murderously at Nick the whole time. If looks could kill Nick would have died horribly right then.

Once the daylight started to wane, the work crews began to put the tools away and get ready to head back to the cabins. The guards headed over toward Francis, who was simmering, ripping mad from being repeatedly punched while restrained.

"All right, asshole, ready to join your crew?" one of the guards asked as he got ready to unchain him.

"Fuck them and fuck you! Assholes are afraid to fight like men! You're pretty brave when a guy is tied up or you're holding a gun on him!" Francis growled back at him. His arm muscles were twitching, he was so angry.

"Looks like we've got a tough guy here", the guard sneered at Francis. He tossed his rifle over his shoulder and belted Francis twice in the gut, doubling him over. As he stood there grinning, Francis straightened up and head-butted him hard, lunging against the chains. The guard crashed to the ground in a heap. Francis spit on him. The man climbed slowly back to his feet, groaning, glared at Francis and then clubbed him hard in the head with the rifle. Francis sunk to the ground, unconscious once more. The guard kicked him hard in the side and said, "Leave this piece of shit out here. If he's still alive in the morning, we can deal with him then." The other guard looked at Francis sadly, shaking his head, "He ain't gonna make it. There's still infected out here, you know. And it's gonna be freakin' cold tonight, too."

"Look at the guy, look at his ink. He's big trouble. We're better off without him, he's never gonna work out. He'll either die tonight or learn a valuable lesson. I could give a shit either way. Come on, let's go before we miss chow", the other guard replied. The men lined up and filed back down the trail, some of the men looking sadly behind them at Francis lying chained and beaten on the ground. Doc saw that even Nick was staring behind him. She was surprised, he looked sad and regretful and had to be physically pushed up the trail by the guards.

Doc waited until they were long gone before going down to Francis. He was still out cold. She quickly picked the locks of the chains holding him to the tree and tried to wake him. She looked around, they needed to get the hell out of there and get as far away as possible right now. She could only think of one option. She bridled up one of the workhorses and haltered the other, taking them out of the small shed where they had been secured.

It wasn't easy, she struggled to even drag him, there was no way to get him slung over the horse. She dug through some of the supplies she had taken from the hospital, selecting a syringe, uncapping it and plunging it into her thigh muscle. With the aid of the adrenaline, she was finally able to wrestle him over across the back of the bridled horse. She jumped up behind him bareback, holding him on with a death grip on the back of his belt. She started off on the trail, heading away from the cabins.

She traveled as quickly as she dared, when the trail forked she released the other horse down that trail and back-tracked down the other one. She was hoping it might confuse their trail if they tried to track them. She also found a small stream, and went upstream for quite a while before going down the other side. She came to a hard top road and moved along it as quickly as possible. She eventually came to a bridge with a small concrete shed nearby. She picked the lock on the shed and dragged Francis in, using every ounce of energy she could muster to do it. She tried to make him comfortable, covering him up with the thin hospital jonnie, then left, closing the door behind her.

She backtracked far up the road and crossed it to the other side, riding as far as she dared before dismounting on some rocks, removing the bridle and slapping the horse, sending it galloping away. She carefully jumped from rock to rock, trying not to leave any discernable trail. She made her way back to the hard top road and jogged along it, her barefeet stinging in the cold.

She hadn't seen a single infected or heard anything to suggest they were around. She was just thinking how lucky that was, since she had no weapons at all, when she heard a familiar shriek. She whirled around, trying to figure out where the hunter could be when it pounced, driving her face first into the ground and pinning her there as it tore into her back. She struggled to turn over, gasping in pain as it slashed into her.

Suddenly, the hunter was ripped from her back. She heard snarling and turned to look, a giant black shape was savaging the hunter, ripping it at until it quit moving. She dragged herself to her feet and backed away, maybe the thing, whatever it was, would be satisfied with eating the hunter. Suddenly, the black shape broke away from its kill and started toward her. She looked around her for a weapon, a stick, anything. The creature slowly advanced toward her, materializing into a gigantic, extremely furry, black dog. It wagged its tail at her and grinned happily, its tongue hanging out. She held her hand out and the dog ducked under it, driving its head into her hip, nearly knocking her over. Holy crap, she thought, this is a big dog, it had to go nearly 200 pounds. She patted its head and scratched it a bit behind the ears. It lapped at her face, leaning into her.

"Thanks, buddy", she murmured to it, "You're a good boy, aren't you? Good dog, you saved my ass. Well, I gotta go, you're welcome to come with." She whistled to him as she headed off down the road, moving a lot slower, her back screaming in pain. The dog trotted along beside her, ranging back and forth next to the road. She finally made it back to the shed.

Francis was still unconscious, his skin was cold and clammy. She shivered, the temperature in the shed was chilly and the cement floor freezing cold. She called the dog in and shut the door. The dog went straight over to Francis and started licking his face. Doc found some old canvas and some old cardboard boxes in the shed and flattened them. She covered them with the canvas then dragged Francis onto the makeshift bedding, gasping and breaking into a chilled sweat at the effort it took. She encouraged the dog to lie down next to him, covered Francis with a fold of canvas, then curled up against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, under her arms as she tried to warm him up. He'd been unconscious for a long time and she was worried. He'd been beaten unconscious twice that afternoon, what if he had a serious brain injury? She shivered uncontrollably as the cold, pain and despair sucked the little remaining strength out of her.

He woke, his head aching and his whole body shivering. It was pitch dark, and he could barely feel his arms. He could feel somebody else shivering even harder than he was, pressed against the front of his body, curled up against him. He reached over and touched the shivering person. He wasn't surprised to discover it was Doc, he would recognize the feel of her body anywhere. Something wet touched his ear, and a long tongue swiped his face, he practically jumped out of his skin, giving a surprised squeak. The pungent smell of dog breath was his next clue that they were not alone. The dog whined and licked his neck, before bashing him in the shoulder with its head. It was like being hit by a damn sledgehammer. Where'd she find this thing, anyway? He patted it and it settled down next to him, it provided wonderful warmth against his back.

He reached over to Doc and moved her over between him and the dog. She soon stopped shivering and relaxed against him. He sighed and kissed her on the head. He had no idea how she did it, but somehow she got him out of there and saved his ass again. He hugged her to him, buried his face in her neck and quickly faded back into sleep.

Francis woke up, seeing light through a crack at the bottom of the door, he got up and cracked the door open cautiously. The dog jumped up and barged through the door, leaping down to a small river. Francis turned and looked at Doc in the dim light, she looked pretty beat up. He could see bruises on her face, neck and arms, he lifted her scrub shirt and saw ugly black bruises across her ribs and entire stomach, her chest was even more badly bruised. Then he noticed blood on the spot where she had been lying. He gently turned her over, spotting several deep gashes across her back, it looked like she had met a hunter at some point. He held her gently, it looked like she'd had a rougher night than he did and that was saying something. She began to stir and finally her eyes opened and looked into his.

"Hey, darlin'", he gave her a gentle lop-sided grin, "'bout time you showed up. What kept you?"

"Oh, you know, did a little shopping, got my nails done…Did ya miss me?" she smiled up at him and drew his head down into a kiss. He kissed her back, holding her gently.

He pulled back, looking into her eyes, "You have no damn idea."

She gave him a grin, "Oh, I have some idea. I was watching yesterday when you were playing with the chain gang there. I hate to tell you this, but I think your people skills need work. I didn't think it was possible, but they might be worse than mine."

He just shook his head, "Yup, we make a great pair. How're ya feelin' anyway?"

"Not great, got jumped by a hunter last night", she looked around her, "Where's Argos?"

He gave her a puzzled look.

"The dog, I decided to call him Argos from the Odyssey. We are on a bit of an odyssey here…" she explained to him as she looked around.

He chuckled, "I guess that does sorta make sense. He went outside once I opened the door."

"Well, I hope he sticks around. He nailed that hunter, took him right off my back and ripped his throat out. He's one damned good dog", she said as she started to try to get up.

He pushed her back down. "Hang on for a sec, let me look at that." He peeled the torn scrubs up, looking at the gashes. "Well, they're not too bad. They could use cleaning and antibiotic ointment though. Don't suppose you brought any?"

She dropped a small cloth shopping bag next to him. "There you go, sir. There's also some pain meds, if you need 'em."

He cleaned and dressed the gashes, and she returned the favor, cleaning up his cuts and scrapes. He shook out some pain pills and dry swallowed them, then offered some to her. She shook her head, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Can't" she shook her head and pressed it against his chest.

"Why not?" he asked in puzzlement.

"It's not a good idea when you're pregnant…" she gave him a small smile as she looked up at him.

It was like somebody had just bludgeoned him in the head again, he was completely stunned. He stared at her in disbelief. "WHAT?!...HOW?!"

"Well, when a boy and a girl really like each other…" she started, grinning impishly up at him.

He kissed her hard then, gripping her to him. He couldn't believe it! He couldn't believe anything this good could ever happen to somebody like him. Then the more he thought about it, the more his elation was drowned in fear. They had just escaped from captivity, they were probably being hunted right now, and they were IN THE MIDDLE OF A GODDAMNED APOCALYPSE! Holy shit, what were they going to do? Adrenaline started to flood into his brain.

Doc felt him tremble. She wasn't sure if he was happy or scared out of his mind. Probably a little of both. She looked into his brown eyes, "Hey, are you ok? I mean, are you ok with this?" He nodded and sighed. He'd never really even thought about fatherhood, it had always seemed like one of those things that other people did, not thugs like him.

"It's fantastic news. I'm just worried about current goddamn events here", he looked intently at her, "I love you, and I'll do everything I can for you and our baby." Wow, those were some words he never thought would cross his lips, "our baby".

She gazed back at him, "I love you, too, and I know you will. I trust you with my life, and I've never said that to anybody, ever, before. We can pull through this, ok? We just have to keep focused and outsmart these damned colonists. We need to get the hell out of here before they figure out where we are. Then we have to figure out how to get the others out of there. "

"But before we do any of that, I need you to do something for me, please." She sighed as she got on her hands and knees.

"Sure. What do you need?" He looked at her quizzically as he stiffly rose to his feet.

"Can you help me up? My back is totally out, I can't get up. Who'd have thought that picking you up and dragging you around would bother it? Have you considered Jenny Craig? Just putting it out there…"She gave him a wan smile, wincing as she tried to straighten up.

"Remember the stretch I showed you? Think you can try it on me? I think I might have something out of alignment, that might help get it back in." She winced as she tried to straighten up further. Francis obliged and with her talking him through it, hauled her up and helped stretch her back out. At first it hurt like hell, but she felt a big clunk and after that it felt much better. He tipped her off his back and she was able to straighten up fully.

She smiled up at him, "All right, big daddy, let's bounce! We need to get it in gear and find some weapons, and shelter."

Francis gave a huge grin back as they walked together out of the little shed.


	32. In Too Deep

Argos bounded up to them, panting heavily as he swung his gigantic head into Doc, then tromped all over Francis' feet. "Jesus, where the hell did this thing come from? And what is it, anyway, looks like a cross between a bear and a cow?" Francis asked, fending the big mutt off.

Doc laughed, "I'm pretty sure this is a Bouvier, or a Bouv cross. If it's a pure bred, it's the biggest one I've ever seen. They were used to pull loads and as messenger dogs during the big World Wars. They almost got wiped out."

They walked up to the bridge, looking around. "I have no clue where we are at all. I laid a lot of false track last night and meandered all over the place in the pitch dark. We could be a 5 minute walk from the colony or a 5 hour walk, I have no idea", she said in disgust. "The road is the easiest to walk on, but if they are looking for us, they will probably be driving on it, hoping to come across us. I don't know, what do you think? I'm tired of making decisions…"

Francis looked around, sighing, "Let's follow the river, it should flow toward the ocean. If we follow it, we should eventually be heading the right way toward the colony."

She nodded in agreement, "Makes sense to me. We should try to actually walk in the water for a while at least, in order not to leave a trail. Let's go up across the bridge and leave a false trail on the other side, in case they've got a tracker, make it look like we're heading down the road. We can cut back to the river when we get to the rocks over there."

Once they made it back to the river, they waded in. Fortunately, it wasn't very deep at the edge, so they were able to wade along there. The water was freezing cold, though, and it wasn't long before Doc was shivering again. She only had scrubs on, and her bare feet were turning blue, pretty soon she couldn't feel them at all. After about half an hour in the river, she was ready to take her chances on solid ground.

"Let's take a break, I can't do this any more", she told Francis as her teeth chattered. They stumbled to the shore and took shelter in some deep brush. Argos rushed up to them, shaking himself and coating them with mud and water. They both glared at him, he threw himself down next to them, rolling on his back and inviting them to scratch his wet belly. "Really? Come on, Argos, give us a break", Doc told him in annoyance. She grabbed her feet, they felt like blocks of ice, she noticed that they were bleeding from multiple cuts from the rocks that she never even felt. Francis reached over to take her feet in his big hands, trying to warm and massage feeling back into them. He looked at the cuts with concern.

"You won't be able to walk at all, if this keeps up", he said as he grabbed some ointment to put on the cuts. She lay back on the ground, gritting her teeth as feeling started to come back to her feet and her back went into another spasm. The adrenaline-fueled episode of last night was not about to be dismissed so easily.

"Well, there's not much choice, is there", she grimaced in pain, as she tried to stretch her back out. "My back is killing me again. It's not about to let me forget about what I did to it, apparently."

He shook his head. He had no idea how she even managed to budge him, he probably weighed nearly twice what she did. He gently nudged her over and began to massage her lower back, trying to sooth the spasm.

They needed to get warmer clothing, shoes for her and some weapons. They were sitting ducks for infected and colonists at the moment. She hadn't eaten since before they got to the colony, and Francis hadn't eaten since their "welcome" supper. They were both in rough shape from beatings. They were really run down and needed to hole up somewhere and recharge their batteries and resupply. Argos was the only one who was doing well on the food front, he caught and killed a possum. He happily brought it to them, looking puzzled when they rejected the ugly offering and gave it back to him. He polished it off and looked at them with a big grin, licking his lips.

They started off again, following the river, Doc limping gamely along. After another few hours of walking, she stumbled to a halt, legs shaking, panting with exhaustion. "Sorry, that's about all I've got. I'm all in. And I take it back, I do need to eat more than once a week…" She gasped as she fell to her hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably. Francis placed a reassuring hand on her back, then straightened up to look around. He couldn't see anything beyond the brush and trees along the river.

"All right, I've got ya. Just a little bit further, we need to get to some shelter". He turned back to see that she had collapsed to the ground, passed out cold. He picked her up and slung her across his shoulders, it was a little easier to carry her that way. Too bad that dog wasn't a bit bigger, he could pack her around no problem.

He carried her for a while until he came to what looked like some kind of boat launch and dock area. It had begun to rain lightly, so he found a large rock overhang that provided some shelter and laid her down on the ground. He lay down next to her to rest for a little while, he was thoroughly exhausted and feeling unsteady himself. Argos lay next to them, flopping over partly across Doc onto his side. Francis figured they could rest for a few hours, then they would need to push hard to find a secure shelter for the night. He pulled himself up to sit against the rock, he needed to stay awake to keep watch. That's the last thing he remembered thinking before he nodded off.

He startled back awake with the feeling that something was really wrong. It looked like it was now late afternoon, so he'd fallen asleep for a couple of hours. Then he heard it, a low growling noise. Looking around, he realized the noise was coming from Argos, who was standing on alert, teeth bared slightly.

Francis carefully moved over to the dog, trying to see what he was growling at, but could not detect anything unusual. He shook Doc awake, they should move out now anyway, they'd been there way too long. She groaned and groggily sat up, wondering where the hell they were.

"What's going on?" She asked as she crawled out and slowly stood up.

"Dunno. The mutt here was growling, but I can't see anything. We'd better get out of here anyway, we've been here a couple of hours I think." He peered around them cautiously. Something felt off, the dog was onto something.

They went over to the dock, which jutted out far into the river, which was wide and looked deep at this spot, looking for anything that they might be able to use. Other than some old ropes and a couple of small barrels, there didn't seem to be anything useful there.

Suddenly, Argos began barking furiously, backing toward them. They turned to see six men emerging from the surrounding woods, rifles and shotguns trained on them.

"Get down on your knees, hands high in the air before we blow your fuckin' heads off!" One of the men yelled at them.

They glanced at each other and slowly complied. There was no way to escape with that many armed men.

Argos was growling furiously and barking ferociously at the strangers, when suddenly he charged toward them. Several of the men quickly sighted their weapons on him and fired. He gave a keening shriek as he was spun into the dirt, then he ran yelping into the woods.

Doc blinked back tears as she stared murderously at the men. She would kill those bastards if they gave her even the slimmest chance. Suddenly, she realized she was hearing a familiar shrieking and howling eerily rising from the surrounding woods. The gunshots were bringing a horde down on them.

The armed men clustered nervously onto the dock, looking out toward the woods as zombies began streaming out toward them. They quickly retreated toward the end of the dock. One of the men took out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed Doc to Francis, left hand to left hand, purposely making it nearly impossible for them to run away.

"What the fuck!" Doc protested angrily. "You're leaving us defenseless against the horde! At least let us defend ourselves!"

The man glared at her, radiating hostility. "Serves you right, assholes! Look at the shit you've gotten us into! If we weren't out here looking for you, we wouldn't be in this mess! Now shut the fuck up before I stove your damn head in! You better hope we can fight these off, or you're gonna end up zombie chow!"

He and his men crouched down and began firing steadily into the infected swarming up the dock. None of the zombies were able to make it close enough to harm anybody, and it looked as if the men would be able to successfully defend against them. Then the ground began to tremble.

Some of the men looked at each other in confusion, while others exchanged looks of stark terror, as a tank burst from the woods and charged towards the dock. Their look of confusion exchanged for one of horror, some men began to scream in fright, even as others began firing into the behemoth.

Doc tugged on Francis' arm, carefully urging him to edge toward the end of the dock. He glanced down at her, with a look of alarm. They both knew that the men wouldn't be able to stop the tank in time. It was going to be on the end of the dock in seconds, smashing them to pieces. He had a very bad feeling about what she was planning to do.

She leaned in next to his ear. "You need to trust me and do exactly as I say. When I yell "GO", you need to run with me and jump into the water. Grab the biggest breath that you can and hold it, no matter what. The air in your lungs is your buoyancy, you make sure you have air in your lungs and let me worry about the swimming, ok?"

He looked at her, horrified. "I can't swim! I can't do this! I _cannot_ do this!" His memories of his earlier near drowning off the Saint Lucia swept a chill wave of panic through him.

"Can you die? Because if you don't do it, that's what's gonna happen! Trust me, I'll take care of swimming! We have no choice! I'm going so you're going! Get ready!" She whispered furiously to him, tugging fiercely on his handcuffed wrist, trying to focus him on the task at hand.

The tank was closing in, barely even registering the impact of the bullets as they tore into its hulking mass. It reached the first man, slamming its fist into him, pulping him into the deck.

"GO!" She yelled at him, pulling him toward the edge. His feet froze. He wanted to comply, but his nervous system was in full revolt. She was yanked to a stop. Quickly turning, she kicked a couple of barrels into the river, grabbed his arm and deftly flipped him right off the dock as the tank, having finished the last of the armed men, bore down on them.

He hit the water with a huge splash, forgetting in his panic to take a breath. He went under like a stone and began to thrash, trying to get his head above water. Suddenly he felt her arm across his chest, drawing him toward the surface.

She dragged his head above water and screamed at him. "Breathe, goddammit! Take the biggest breath you can and stop flailing! Shit!" She cursed as she was forced under water again, struggling to keep his head above water. He was heavy and lean, with no air in his lungs, it was like trying to keep a 200+ pound stone afloat. A stone that was handcuffed to her and flailing about, making it almost impossible to swim.

She glanced toward the dock, where the massive mutant was pounding the deck, until it finally lurched toward them into the water. The water churned and boiled as it went under, the great arms thrashing up through the water. She prayed with every fiber in her being that the thing couldn't swim. She kicked to move further away, they'd be killed if they got caught up in the tank's death throes. She was forced under again as she tried to push Francis away from the tank and keep him at the surface.

Francis sputtered and gasped, finally managing to fill his burning lungs. She burst back up to the surface, hacking and gasping, she gripped the back of his vest and started swimming as he tried to just concentrate on holding his breath.

She dragged him along, straining every muscle fiber as she tried to make it to one of the floating barrels. She finally managed to close in on one and yelled in desperation to Francis, "Take a big breath, turn and grab the barrel!" She propelled him forward, shoving him as hard as she could toward the barrel as she was forced under water once more. He managed to fling an arm over the floating barrel, clinging to it for all he was worth. Now that he had something to hold him afloat, he began to recover his senses a little. Doc was floating next to him on her back, water washing over her face as she gasped, clearly on the verge of blacking out. He pulled her toward him, hugging her limp body against his shoulder as they drifted downstream.

Doc eventually recovered enough to help him guide the barrel toward the shore, kicking to propel it forward. They finally made it to the edge of the river, staggered out of the water and collapsed, completely exhausted, in the mud.

Doc awoke feeling strangely warm on one side, freezing on the other. She couldn't move her left hand at all, very puzzling until she recalled she was still handcuffed to Francis. She slowly opened her eyes to see a large furry mass lying against her, mashed between her and Francis. Argos lifted his head and whined, seeming to give a smile as he panted at her.

She sat up with a groan and patted him, hugging him tightly, he was the most awesome dog on the planet. She checked on Francis, who groggily came awake when she shook him. She picked the handcuff locks, and chucked them into the river.

She checked Argos over, it was hard to find the bullet wounds in the masses of hair, but finally she located them. One seemed to be just a flesh wound, the bullet had grazed him right along the back. Another bullet had buried itself in his hindquarters and would have to be removed at some point. He was able to walk and run, he just didn't use the injured leg, keeping it tucked up against his body. She was glad the injuries were relatively minor and hoped he would make a full recovery.

They quickly pulled themselves together and began to head downstream next to the river. It would be dark soon and they desperately needed to find shelter.

They walked for nearly an hour before spotting a decrepit house up ahead near the banks of the river. Francis went to check out the house, while Doc looked around outside to see whether she could find anything useable. She noticed an old bulkhead, partially covered in sand, built into a hill next to the house. She decided to check it out, it could be a root cellar with some forgotten stored food. It was locked, but she managed to wedge a stout branch between the doors and pry at it until the aging latch broke.

She emerged with a wide smile and went to get Francis. Doc grinned and showed him what she'd found. Francis couldn't believe his eyes, they'd found somebody's fully stocked emergency shelter. Food, clothing, blankets, batteries, it was all there. It was like finding a little bit of heaven while traipsing through hell. They got Argos into the shelter, disguised the opening with some debris and closed it up for the night.

They both heaved a big sigh of relief. Doc immediately changed into a dry t-shirt and shorts and fell onto a bunk. Too exhausted after the day's adventures to even eat, she fell immediately to sleep. Francis followed her lead, after quickly bolting some food and water, he stretched out to sleep in another bunk bed. Francis had no idea how long they slept, he was finally woken by Argos whining and scratching at the door to go out. He got up and let the mutt out, observing that it looked like it was morning of the next day. They'd slept about 14 hours or so. He shut the door and started getting breakfast together, waking Doc when it was ready. They both ate heartily, grateful for finally getting a decent meal.

Doc even found some dog food and fed Argos, who looked at her like she was his god. With Francis' help, she was even able to quickly dig the bullet out and dress his wounds. He took it well, whimpering a little only when she was probing and removing the bullet with forceps. He seemed to know they were trying to help, even quietly licking Francis' hands as he held him steady for the procedure. Afterward, he threw himself down on his side and went to sleep.

Doc collected some water in a bucket and bathed, she finally started to feel a bit more alive. Francis bathed as well, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had the chance. They lounged comfortably together, just relaxing. She leaned against Francis, just thrilled to be able to spend some time with him, without worrying about the various entities trying to kill them for the moment. He hugged her to him, kissed her and started stroking her sides. She smiled at him and started running her hands under his shirt, along his muscular chest. He started to push her shirt up, then looked at the huge bruises across her stomach and ribs. He gently touched her skin and winced, "How's it feelin'?"

She shrugged, "It's ok, it only hurts if you put pressure on it. Everything just feels sore." He lay back and pulled her down toward him, smoothing her shirt back down. "We should wait until you're feelin' better. Anyway, you're expectin'", he said as he gently pulled her against him, but stopped stroking her.

She turned toward him with a quizzical look, "I take it you don't have children or ever been involved with a pregnancy before." She watched as he actually blushed. Guess that pretty much answered her question.

"Uh, no. I mean, not that I know of", he muttered as he ran his hand through his buzz cut hair. The room suddenly felt kind of hot. He'd actually never been involved with anybody for any really significant length of time, this was a first for him. He had plenty of women who were more than willing, but he was always on the move and he'd learned a long time ago that getting attached to anybody just gave the Legion a tool to use to manipulate him. After that happened a couple of times, he had never really given much thought to having actual relationships. His encounters became primarily one night stands, drunk women who came onto him in bars when he just happened to be equally drunk and in the mood for company, which wasn't that often, given how unsatisfying it typically was. Now it all seemed kind of disgusting and humiliating, the more he thought about it. He would never breath a word of this to her. At the time, he'd felt cheap and disposable and that was the type of women he picked up.

"Oh, so no kids at all? I guess this will be virgin territory for you, then", she grinned at him. "Well, first off you don't need to worry about anything, it's all good until right before the baby is due, which won't be for quite a while yet. Just watch the bruises, they're pretty tender", she said as she kissed his hand and placed it back on her with a smile. He gently caressed and kissed her, he made love to her with a gentle intensity, until they were both satisfied, falling asleep entwined together.

When they woke again, it was nighttime. Francis got up and started putting together dinner, while Doc went to search through the contents of the shelter. She was hoping to find some shoes or sneakers, she'd settle for flip-flops at this point. She was also hoping to locate some weapons. She found ammo, but curiously no guns and unfortunately, no shoes. She went through the supplies, making a mental list of what was available. She finished up and went to check on Argos, feeding him some more of the canned dog food she'd found. He didn't seem too hungry, she could only wonder what small animal had been consumed while he was out roaming around.

They ate dinner quickly and then started trying to plan their next move. They needed to find the colony, then figure out a way to bust the rest of their group out. Francis told Doc what Warren had been saying while she was trying to escape. They obviously had planned on using her, Rochelle and Zoey as breeding stock, whether they wanted to or not. Doc thought the whole thing was beyond creepy, the thought of Warren forcing himself on her made her skin crawl. He better hope she never saw him again, she might kill him just for thinking about doing that.

The other interesting development was that Nick, Ellis and Coach had obviously been captured as well. That easily answered the question of what happened to them. At least, they hadn't been wiped out by infected.

They had some big hurdles to overcome. They didn't know where Louis, Zoey of Coach were being kept. Even if they did, they would have to get into the perimeter of the colony and somehow get them out, all without getting the guards all over them. They talked about it for quite a while, but had yet to come up with a plan. Doc was completely stumped. Francis had doubts it was even possible. The thought of abandoning their companions to unwilling servitude in some colony was just not appealing to them either. Doc remembered what Bill had said in her dream and resolved that they were not going to leave anybody behind, no matter what.

Finally they decided to just sleep on it, maybe things would look better in the morning. They let Argos out for his last outing of the day, then called him back in for the night. Francis laid out some mattresses and bedding on the floor, patting next to him, he invited her to lay down next to him. He would rather sleep next to her than alone in the bunk bed. She joined him, she didn't sleep well anymore unless he was next to her anyway so this suited her just fine. Some time later, she lay curled against him, wondering how such a big, tough guy could be so gentle and sensitive. She soon fell sound asleep, head on his chest, giant dog hogging the bed behind her.


	33. Dead Quiet

Francis woke to the sound of deep growling. He saw Argos had positioned himself between them and the door and was steadily growling, lips curled over his teeth. He quietly went up to him and placed his hand on his back and softly said, "Hush, Argos. Easy, boy." He listened carefully, trying to figure out what set the dog off. After a while, Argos seemed to lose interest and returned to sleep next to Doc. Francis waited for a while, then cracked the door open to check things out. It looked like it was mid-morning, he couldn't see anything out there, so he shut the door and went to make breakfast.

When Doc finally woke up, he told her about Argos' strange behavior. She went and brought out some binoculars she found the other night. She went to the door and cracked it open, kneeling in the doorway, she scanned the area. She looked closely at the ground near the river, then slowly closed the door.

"Well, I think we've had company. They didn't see the bulkhead, so we got lucky. I'm assuming it was probably colonists, I'll know better when I take a closer look at the tracks. We can probably backtrack them to find the colony", she said as she straightened and put the binoculars down. "I'm hoping we're fairly close, I want to go out at dusk and see whether I can get close and do a little reconnaissance. I'm beginning to formulate a plan, I think we've been looking at this the wrong way. I've got something different in mind for our colonist friends."

"OK, well let's eat first and plot later", Francis replied, serving up a big breakfast of oatmeal and powdered eggs with fried potato.

She shook her head, grinning as she sat down, "You're spoiling me, you know. You'll have to roll me out of here, if this keeps up."

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her, gently rubbing her belly, "Don't forget you're eatin' for two now."

She just laughed, "I don't think he or she really needs quite that much yet."

"Well, I'm gonna make sure they get whatever they need from now on, even if I have to spoon feed you to make sure", he replied with a smile.

After they ate, she told Francis what she had in mind for rescuing their companions. He just stared at her in disbelief. "That is the craziest damned plan I've heard in my whole damned life."

She shrugged, "Maybe so, but it's the only plan that I think stands a reasonable chance of succeeding. Look, I'll go in and do some looking around, I'm pretty sure I can find out what we need to know and get back out without anybody being the wiser."

"No fuckin' way, you're not going back in there! What if they catch you again? No way, if anybody goes in, it's goin' to be me", he shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, Francis, you can't go. I heard what those guys at the work camp were saying when they left you to die. They'd as soon kill you as look at you, you have no value to them whatsoever. If they catch you, they'll kill you for sure. If they catch me, they're not going to hurt me. They'll probably just chuck me back in their clinic, I'll get out eventually, you know that. In case you hadn't noticed, I've escaped from everyone that has tried to keep me locked up. It might take a day or two, but I always get out. I'm not in serious danger if I go in there. Plus, I know what I'm doing, I can move around without drawing attention. You are just not going to be able to do that, you're a bit too large and distinctive looking, let's face facts. You have no chance of getting in and out of there undetected, and I do. So that's why I'm going and you're not", she argued, setting her jaw stubbornly. "I'm just going to scope things out first, nobody is going to catch me, ok? You can come with me as far as the perimeter, I'll show you were the clinic is, in case anything happens you'll know where I'll be."

He shook his head, "No, I don't like it. We need to come up with something else."

"Well, there isn't going to be a safe way to do this. We're both going to be at risk at some point. I just want to manage the risk. You're no good to anybody dead. And just so you know, I'm NOT raising another child by myself. If they catch you, I'm gonna stop them from killing you or die trying, it's that simple. So your going in there would be more dangerous to me than just me going. And we can't wait forever, who knows what they're doing with Zoey and Rochelle? We need to kick it in gear, and my plan is workable. Unless you have something better, I say we go ahead and scope the place out tonight. Then we can decide if the plan is going to fly or not", she suggested as she paced, agitated.

"Whoa…whoa! Back it up! What do you mean "another" child? You have another one? Where?" he asked in confusion.

She frowned and sighed, "I don't know. Actually, if it weren't for him, I probably would never have run into any of you. The only reason I was down in Pennsylvania was because I was trying to find him. After the meeting in DC, I went to his school, but they had already been evacuated. I was trying to find the evac zone he went through when I ran into all of you. I don't know if he made it out or not, I'll probably never know." Her eyes started to tear up, she wiped at them quickly, she hated crying. Anyway, there was nothing to cry about, he was probably absolutely fine at some evac shelter. At least that's what she kept telling herself whenever she started to think about him.

"Sorry, I didn't know. I guess we've never talked too much about the past. So were you married and the whole thing?" he asked, pulling her to him gently.

She smiled sadly at him, "Yeah, for quite a few years, until I finally threw the towel in. I learned a couple of valuable lessons. Lesson #1: People are what they are, you can't change them. Lesson #2: You can't help people who don't want to be helped and finally Lesson #3: I'll never be the perfect little housewife that men seem to want, I'm just too independent.

Francis frowned, he hoped she didn't think the same thing about him. He was trying to change, turn whatever was left of his life around.

"What's wrong? Are you upset because I used to be married and had a child?" she asked with a worried look, seeing his frown.

He shook his head, still frowning. "No, just thinkin' about the past. I'm tryin' to change, be somebody you want to be with, not the person I was…"

She looked up at him with a smile, "You don't need to worry about that, you are the person I want to be with. You're a good man, even if you haven't quite figured that out yet. I don't know all the details of your past, of course, but I can guess some of it." She took his big hand, and kissed it, tracing the scars on it with her finger, especially around the knuckles. "I've seen the marks and scars all over you. I know what that means. You were a soldier, an enforcer. Maybe you did some terrible things for money. I wouldn't judge you for that. I've done pretty similar stuff for free, back in the day. I think you're judging yourself too harshly. I know you've got a good heart, underneath everything, the same way I know you're far from stupid." She leaned over and kissed him, her hand on the back of his neck.

He kissed her back and then sighed, "You might feel differently, if you knew some of the things I've done."

She shook her head, "Nope, wouldn't change a thing about how I feel about you. I know the person you are now, and that's what matters to me. If you knew even half the stuff I'VE done, you'd understand. I've gone from being a very angry, opinionated and fairly violent young person, to the paragon of virtue you see before you, with occasional lapses, of course." She grinned at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

She playfully wrestled him down onto the bedding and pinned him there, kissing him. "I love you and care about you, that's not gonna change, past be damned." She gently took charge, as she began to make love to him.

Afterwards, she placed her head on his chest and curled a leg over him as he fell into a deep sleep. They slept for a few hours, then Doc got up to go through the supplies and collect items needed for the evening's activities. Francis prepared supper and they ate quickly, she wanted to get out and try to do some tracking before it got dark.


	34. Hostile Takeover

They were able to back track the colonists to a nearby road, where the boot prints were replaced by tire tracks. They followed the tire tracks and after a lengthy walk, arrived on the outskirts of the colony. It was just starting to get dark. Doc left Francis and Argos hiding out in a building near the road as she crept closer to the massive stockade fence surrounding the colony. She wasn't sure how she was going to get over it, it looked like the colonists had been careful to remove anything from the base of the fence that would afford access.

She circled the colony, finally finding what she was looking for, a tall building adjacent to the fence. She entered the building carefully and flicked on a covered flashlight, making her way to the highest floor. She found a broken window and carefully crawled over to it and started surveying the colony below through the binoculars she'd brought along. After observing for nearly 2 hours, she quietly crept back out of the building and returned to where Francis and Argos anxiously awaited her. Francis was relieved when she returned, he'd been worried that she would decide to try to enter the colony. Luckily, the moon was almost full and they could make their way through the darkness. They quickly walked back to the road and then back to their shelter, being careful to obscure their tracks once they left the hardtop.

They both breathed a sigh of relief, once they made it back inside safely. It was really unnerving to be wandering outside without any real weapons. Doc felt a bit better, since Argos was with them, but it still really bothered her not to have at least her katana. Francis felt almost naked out there without a shotgun, all he had was a small survival knife, the only weapon they had found so far. She fed Argos, then let him back out for a while.

"So, what did you see?" Francis asked as he got out some bottles of water and tossed one to her.

"Well, I saw Louis. It was pretty easy to pick him out, since he's using crutches. I saw him leaving the dining hall and going to what looks like a men's dorm, a bunch of guys went in there. He didn't look like he was being guarded, I'm sure they don't see him as an escape risk. I also saw Coach hanging around with Louis. I didn't see Zoey at all. I could have missed her, if she changed her clothes, but I don't think so. She may be confined someplace. Same thing with Rochelle, no sign of her either. I still think my original idea is the way to go, Warren's place is relatively easy to identify and get into. I don't see much in the way of security", she said as she sat down to rub her aching feet.

Francis scowled, he didn't like her plan, it just seemed too dangerous with a low chance of success. On the other hand, blundering around through the colony searching for wherever they stashed Zoey and Rochelle wasn't going to work either. They needed to get their companions and their gear and get the hell out of there in one piece.

He shook his head, "All right, we'll try it your way. We just need a backup plan if things go haywire." He was hungry, so he got some food together, as she went to wash up. She was covered in filth and grit from crawling around the building, keeping out of sight. She finished washing up, let Argos back in for the night and lay down on the bedding. Argos snuffled around before finally plunking himself down next to her. Francis finished eating and, after pushing Argos over to make room, joined her, gently pulling her to him. He kissed her, softly stroking her stomach, "How ya' feelin'?"

She returned his kiss, tucking herself against him with a sigh."OK, just tired, the pain is wearing me down. My feet and back have really seen better days. Too bad a little rest isn't going to solve that problem."

"Let me try to help", he replied as he eased her over and began massaging her back, gently working his way up from the lower back to her shoulders, feeling the tension melt away from her. Soon she was sound asleep, so he covered her with a blanket. He went to get the ointment and had a look at her feet. They were in rough shape, covered in cuts and huge blisters. It was a mystery to him how she was even walking. He did his best to clean and dress the cuts, just hoping that would help a little. With a sigh, he lay down next to her, hugging her to him. He fell asleep worrying about whether they had any chance of pulling off her plan tomorrow and whether they would even live to see another night together.

The next morning, Francis arose early. He let Argos out and made breakfast as he considered what he was going to say to Doc. He had decided they needed to rethink their plan, he just wasn't convinced they could pull it off, especially since she was nowhere near 100% healthy. He shook his head, she would just have to listen to reason, there was no point in rushing off and getting killed or captured again. That wasn't going to help their friends at all. He sighed, she was not going to be happy, that much he was sure of.

Once breakfast was ready, he woke her up, and they quietly ate, each lost in their own thoughts. Afterwards, she surprised him by confessing that she wanted to give some more thought to their plan because she was worried that it was going to be too difficult for her right now. He breathed a big sigh of relief, at least he wouldn't have to get into an argument with her about it.

She lay back down on one of the bunks as she tried to piece together a new plan. It finally dawned on her that she had been ignoring a ready pool of allies and that if they were able to get help, her original plan stood a good chance of succeeding. She explained to Francis what she had in mind. He remained skeptical, but at least this plan was a major improvement over the last one.

Later that afternoon, they gathered the supplies they would need and headed out for the first part of their plan, they left Argos behind this time. They carefully circled the colony, until they came to the path to the work camp. They followed that path until they came to the cabins, which were still empty at this time of day, then hid in deep brush to wait. Eventually the chained men were brought back by the guards and taken to the dining tent for their evening meal. There were more than 30 shackled men, and only 6 guards.

Once the men were locked down in their cabins, the guards retired to another cabin, leaving two men on guard out in the dirt compound. They waited until everything quieted down and it seemed like most of the men, except the two guards, were asleep. Finally, Doc and Francis slipped away into the night and crept up behind the guards. She disabled one of them quickly and soundlessly within seconds, choking him out, then gagging and cuffing him, while Francis preferred the direct method, cracking the other guard over the head with a frying pan he had picked up near the dining tent.

They armed themselves with the guard's weapons and silently crept into the cabin. Within a few minutes they had the guards all under their control. Some had been knocked unconscious, while others were held at gunpoint. They looked at Francis in abject fear, thinking he meant to kill them all for leaving him to die. He found some chains and shackles and bound them all just like he had been bound, hands behind them and legs shackled together. He got the keys to the men on the chain gangs and went to release them, leaving Doc holding the guards. She only had to knock one of them unconscious with a head kick for them to realize that she was as dangerous as Francis and not to be taken lightly. After that, they were quick to comply with her directions.

Francis released the men from the chain gangs. Nick and Ellis, who looked exhausted and beaten down, were shocked to see Francis and astonished when he released them from their chains. Nick was very nervous around Francis, he wasn't sure if he was harboring a grudge over their last little interaction. Francis face was unreadable, he didn't smile or pretend to be pleased to see either Nick or Ellis. His manner was just business-like and blunt, the Francis that Nick remembered all too well from his Legion days. Francis clearly had a mission and was determined to complete it, Nick knew he better not interfere if he knew what was good for him. He and Ellis just stood quietly alongside the other freed men.

They gathered in the dirt compound as Francis explained the plan. The men readily agreed to join them, many of them had been dreaming of just such an opportunity ever since they found themselves forced into chains. Francis left two of the men behind to watch the guards. He looked each guard in the eye as he informed them in his throaty growl that if any of them escaped and interfered with them he would personally kill them all as slowly and painfully as possible. Frightened almost senseless, the guards swore he would have no trouble from them.

Satisfied, Francis and Doc set out on the next part of their plan. They led the group back along the path to the colony. As they approached the outskirts, they split up. Francis took the men along with him back to the building Doc had used to spy on the colony. Doc headed off to the other side of the compound to wait for a signal from Francis' group. After about an hour, she glimpsed the signal Francis flashed from the building and started climbing up the pile of rubble she had laid up against the fence. From there, she easily scaled over it and dropped down to a nearby shed roof as quietly as possible. She lightly jumped over to the roof of the adjoining house and crept up to one of the windows. Using a screwdriver, she pried off the molding holding the window in and quietly took one off and set it aside, climbing through the window. The bedroom she found herself in was unoccupied, so she slipped quietly into the hallway to search for Warren's bedroom. She opened several doors, peering in, only to find them unoccupied. There was a room at the end of the hall, she suspected that might be his room.

She eased open the door and silently slipped in, from the dim twilight entering the windows it appeared that somebody was asleep in the bed. Suddenly, the bedroom was brightly lit as a large floodlight clicked on. Blinded by the sudden intense lighting, she stopped in her tracks.

"Bravo, dear! Bravo! I knew you wouldn't disappoint! I'm sorry I have to disappoint you, though. Whatever you had planned for me is just not going to happen. We've been expecting you and thanks to our security cameras and motion sensors your little plan is a failure." She heard Warren's voice through the painful glare.

She whirled to jump back out of the room but was brought to an abrupt and painful stop. She felt some needlelike pains and heard a sharp electric crackling, then she found herself writhing uncontrollably on the floor, muscles contracting painfully all over her body. She knew exactly what was happening, even as her body was convulsing and a searing pain ripped through her back. God how she hated being tased.

"Wow…", said Warren, "That just never gets old. So much for the martial arts, right, sweetheart?" He stood over her grinning, with three guards standing behind him. She groaned inwardly, she had been afraid that there might be a trap waiting, but she had been relatively sure she could escape out of it. She knew they probably wouldn't try to shoot her, but hadn't really considered the possibility of a taser, or security cameras and motion sensors, come to think of it. This put a serious crimp in her plan. She just hoped that Francis was able to pull off his part of the plan. It wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.

She twitched as she tried to regain control over her muscles, trying to fight off the fiery burning in her back. Warren knelt heavily on her chest with one knee as he yanked the taser electrodes out and quickly patted her down stripping her of weapons, grinning widely as he looked down at her. His knee felt like it sunk all the way down into her spine, since none of the chest or rib muscles were currently in working order and the bones themselves were no longer completely intact due to her tank encounter. She soon felt a heavy burning in her chest to go along with her back. She coughed painfully, it was getting hard to breathe.

"Don't worry, my dear. Your part in this is over. I assume you brought your big friend to play with us as well, I'm sure he's nearby. We'll have him shortly, don't you concern yourself with that. Dead or alive, doesn't matter. But I'm afraid we can't risk your rejoining him right now, so you're going to have yourself a nice, long nap. When next you wake up, you'll be back in full restraints in a very special cell set up just for you." He grinned and patted her on the cheek as he finally got off her aching chest.

He nodded to one of the men, who rolled her over and hogtied her wrists and ankles behind her. He'd seen her fight and knew they needed to secure both hands and feet in order to control her. She groaned in pain, the position was agonizing, putting strain on her injured shoulder and chest, breathing became even more difficult. She began to struggle, the inability to breathe started a wave of desperation to rush through her. He then pulled out a vial and filled a large syringe. Grasping her forearm, he twisted it and plunged the needle into a vein, pushing the contents of the vial in quickly. She moaned at the intense stinging, it felt like liquid fire coursing through her veins. Almost immediately, she fell completely limp as she lost consciousness, her eyes open but sightless. The man gave a satisfied grunt, then took out some medical tape and closed her eyes, taping them shut.

Warren looked down at her, congratulating himself on recapturing a terrific piece of breeding stock. Courageous, clever and athletic, he looked forward to the children she would produce for him. He knew she was pregnant now, but he would take her over to the clinic and have that taken care of. He didn't really want to waste resources raising another man's baby, and that big son of a bitch was trouble, probably any child of his would be the same. No, he'd terminate that and then he could start breeding her again right away. He smiled as he thought about the pleasure she would give him. He liked it rough and she seemed tough enough to last for a little while, unlike the unlucky women before her.

On to the next order of business, catching and killing that big bastard she was running with. He was sure he was nearby, he probably wasn't going to give her up without a fight.

Suddenly, he realized he was hearing muffled explosions. He ran to the window and looked out over the colony grounds to see that there were multiple fires springing up all along the stockade, and people running everywhere. He grabbed his Magnum and rushed outside with his guards.

Francis had been watching carefully from the building where his group was currently holed up after signaling Doc to start off. He strained his eyes through the binoculars, trying to see her, but it was too dark. He knew that she should soon be inside the building, looking for Warren. The plan was for her to grab him, to prevent him from organizing any resistance, and as a hostage, in case Francis' part of the plan backfired, they would still have a way out. As soon as he saw the bright light flash on in the house, he knew there was a problem. Something went wrong, maybe she had gotten caught up in a trap. He clenched his jaw and nodded to the other men, it was go time.

They propped ladders, found in abandoned buildings nearby, up against the fence. Once the men were at the top of the fence, they lobbed molotovs down, throwing them against parts of the fence and other buildings. The colonists began to panic, as they realized they were being attacked and that their buildings were on fire. Francis and his men leapt down into the compound, attacking and disabling any armed opponents. Unarmed colonists were gathered together and held in the central part of the compound. Any guards were quickly confined and locked in rooms. There was remarkably little shooting, most of the security guards seemed completely bewildered and were disarmed without firing a single shot. They were completely unprepared for an attack by people, rather than zombies.

Francis headed quickly toward Warren's house and was the first to encounter him when he came out with his guards. Warren recognized him and immediately shot at him with his Magnum, as his guards opened fire. Francis felt something strike his shoulder, spinning him around. Before he could return fire, he heard the clattering of an M16 and Warren and his guards fell wounded to the ground. He looked over to see Nick with the M16 at his shoulder. Francis gave Nick a short nod of appreciation, which Nick barely acknowledged with a tilt of his head.

Francis shook his head as he ignored the stinging pain and blood leaking from his shoulder. He bolted into the house, searching for Doc. He ran up the stairs and entered the room with the floodlight still on, finding her tied up and completely limp, her eyes taped shut. She seemed to be barely breathing, he cursed and cut her loose, then picked her up, carrying her swiftly down the stairs and outside.

The conflict outside was already over. The colonists milled around in the compound, as Francis' men held them there using the weapons they had recovered from the guards. He jumped up on a nearby truck and bellowed at the crowd, "Hey, listen up! This place is going to be under new management! Anybody who wants to stay here and work together to make a decent colony without forced labor and without forcing women into becoming breeders is welcome! Anybody who likes that stuff can get the hell out and stay out! What do you people want to do?"

The crowd cheered, and Francis' men cheered out "STAY!"

"All right, then! Let's get these fires out!", he yelled back at them. He jumped back down and rushed with Doc over to the clinic building.


	35. Safe Haven

He carried her swiftly over to the clinic, praying that they would be able to help. The doctors in the clinic were busy tending to various casualties from the conflict. He stopped a young woman who seemed to be in charge of triaging the wounded and had her take a look at Doc.

She glanced up at him in irritation when he interrupted her, then did a double-take at Doc.

"Never thought I'd see her again. What happened?", she asked as she nodded at him to lay her down on a nearby gurney.

"Dunno, found her like this. She was supposed to capture Warren, but I think she got caught in a trap. Looks like he drugged her or somethin', taped her eyes shut for some reason." Francis gasped out, as he frowned down at her. "Looks like she's barely breathin'. She's gonna be ok, right?"

The woman took out a stethoscope and carefully listened, then rolled her on her side and listened at her back. She ripped the tape off her eyelids, flashing a pen light in her eyes. Francis looked on anxiously, the dull, blank stare from Doc's eyes was really disconcerting, she looked dead already. The woman grabbed a nearby orderly, instructing them to take her into the surgery.

"What's goin' on? What's wrong, is she gonna be ok?", he yelled as they grabbed the gurney and whisked her down the hall. The woman hurried after, ignoring Francis, who followed behind. She hurriedly gowned up and put gloves on, and went in. Francis followed, she stopped him, frowning, "If you're gonna be in here, put a mask on at least." She tossed one to him and he slid it on, finding that goatees and masks didn't really work all that well together.

"She's overdosed on something, not sure what. She's going to need a some transfusions, and she somehow got a collapsed lung out of the deal. She's having trouble getting enough oxygen right now and her heart beat is glacial, almost nonexistent. We're gonna have to intubate her, see if we can reinflate the lung, and drain the fluid around the lungs. The transfusion should help with the overdose, we'll just have to see. Don't worry, we'll do our best", she said as she saw his frantically worried expression. "You don't need to be here, unless you have the same bloodtype, O negative. We've got some, but we need more. Otherwise, get out of here and go have somebody take that bullet out of your shoulder."

Francis smiled grimly, "I'm O negative, too. So you can kill two birds with one stone, take the bullet out and do a transfusion at the same time."

The woman turned to a young assistant busy prepping Doc for the surgery, "Prep him and set him up for the transfusion, get somebody in here to grab that bullet out." She turned back to him, "It's going to hurt, I can't give you anything for it until the transfusion is done, since I don't know what they used on her. You can wait to have the bullet taken out, do it under anesthesia then. "

He shook his head, "I'm not doing anesthesia no matter what, so just take it out." He'd had enough with being drugged insensible lately, and there was no way he was going to do that when he needed to keep an eye on Doc.

She nodded and turned her attention back to Doc. He watched as they intubated her, a machine forcing air into her lungs, and started the transfusion with several units of blood, before switching over to using Francis as a live donor. They cut a small slit in the chest wall and inserted a tube, which erupted with a frightening amount of frothy blood. Francis couldn't watch any more, he turned away and shut his eyes, hoping when he next looked she would be doing a whole lot better.

Suddenly he heard a flurry of activity, he looked over to see that they had started CPR, one woman darted away and returned with a defibrillator. He looked on, his face turning white, as they shocked her repeatedly, finally getting a heart beat back. Shortly after that, they finished up with the transfusion just as they finished up pulling the bullet out of his shoulder. He barely even noticed, he was intent on watching Doc and making sure she was hanging in there. They took her off to a room and he got up and followed, in spite of the protests of the doctor who had just removed the bullet. He plunked himself down in a chair and watched over her, far beyond exhausted from the gunshot wound and the units of blood he gave. He had almost dozed off when somebody grabbed onto him, hugging him tightly. He opened his eyes to see Zoey hugging him and Louis standing behind her, grinning.

"Oh my god, Francis! I thought you might have been killed when I couldn't find you out there! Ellis said you were leading the work crew chain gang against the colonists! Finally somebody said they thought you were over here…" Zoey said as she stood back up. "Thanks for coming back for us, I was so scared…"

"Yeah, thanks man. I know you could have easily just left us behind, thanks for not forgetting us." Louis said as he put his hand on Francis' good shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

Zoey turned to look at Doc with concern, "What happened? Did she get shot?"

Francis shook his head, "No, it looks like they gave her some drug and overdosed her, accidentally or on purpose, I don't know. She ended up with a collapsed lung, too. Speaking of the asshats who were running this place, Louis, can you help with the organizing of the colonists for now? They all seem to think I'm in charge of this little revolt, but they really need somebody intelligent and fair-minded to help them reorganize, and you fit the bill perfectly. And Zoey, I could use a big favor. Could you please watch Doc for me for a while? I'm exhausted, but I want somebody to keep an eye on her."

Zoey and Louis readily agreed to help. He went out and introduced Louis to the men who had helped him take over the compound, they were more than willing to have his help with the aftermath of the take over. He returned to Doc's room and fell instantly asleep on a cot they brought in for him, while Zoey took over the chair. He woke much later, Zoey was still sitting in the chair, idly flipping through a magazine. She smiled at him when she saw he was awake.

"Hey, feeling better now?" she asked, as she stood and stretched.

"Yeah, a bit. Thanks for staying to watch, any changes?" he replied, getting up and stretching out, too.

"No, not really. I haven't seen her move at all yet", she said, shaking her head sadly. "The doctor and nurses have been by, they seem very nice and I think they're doing the best they can."

"Yeah, they seem like decent people", he said as he went over to Doc, lightly stroking her cheek and placing his big hand on her shoulder. Her skin felt a bit cool to him, so he grabbed another blanket and layered it on. "Look, I need to go do something, can you stay for a couple more hours?"

"Sure, I've got all the time in the world. I'm just thrilled to be out of the unlit cell they locked me in for days. Take as much time as you need", she answered, settling back down.

Francis went out to find Louis and collect a shotgun and a couple of men to go with him. They grabbed a truck and drove down to the work camp to pick up the camp guards and the men they had left with them, then swung by the old dilapidated house. Argos was waiting there, acting a bit put out that he'd been left behind, tied to the porch with some twine. Argos greeted him with a massive head butt to express his displeasure, nearly knocking Francis on his ass. He got Argos piled in the cab with him and they headed on back to the colony. He introduced Argos to Louis, asking him to feed and look after him for a little while, until he got Doc squared away.

He headed back to the clinic to stay with Doc. Zoey looked up in relief as he came in.

"Hey, glad you're back. There's been some excitement here", she said, nodding toward Doc. Francis looked over, he saw that they'd placed restraints on her.

"What the hell? She hates that stuff! Why'd they do that?" Francis asked with a frown.

"They had to, she started thrashing around and trying to pull the tubes out, nearly ripped herself out of everything. They think it's probably just an effect of the drug overdose. It was all they could do to keep her down though. Did you know she's pregnant? The doctors think the baby is still ok", she said.

Francis nodded, he'd been afraid to even ask them last night. "Well, at least that's some good news", he said with a frown. "Why don't you head off and get some sleep? I'll be right here if anybody needs me." He wearily sat himself down in the chair.

"OK, dude. I think you should go ahead and get some more sleep, though, you still look like hell", Zoey said as she patted him on the shoulder. "She's not going anywhere, so you might as well catch up on some sleep while you're waiting."

He shook his head, "No, if she does wake up, she's gonna go ballistic. I don't wanna miss that." He gave her a faint smile.

"All right. I'll be back in a bit to spell ya", she said as she headed out the door.

Not long after that, the doctor that did the surgery stopped by to check on her. "Hey, you're back. How's the shoulder feeling?" she asked him.

He shrugged, "It's fine, not bothering me much. What's going on with her and the thrashing? Shouldn't she be waking up soon?"

She shook her head, as she got out her stethoscope. "I wish I knew. It would be nice to know what the hell they injected her with. Some sort of heavy duty anesthetic, propofol or sodium thiopental maybe. It was probably an accidental overdose, she looks heavier in the loose clothes than she really is and she was in a pretty debilitated condition, too." She listened to the chest and rolled her slightly to listen at the back.

"What about the baby? This can't be good…" He cast a worried frown as he looked over Doc's still body.

She shrugged, "It's probably her liver and kidneys that took the biggest hit on that, I think the baby still seems fine on ultrasound. I think we've got the lung reinflated, I'm going to pull the tubes for the ventilator, see how she does on her own. You might want to take a break while I do this…", she gestured to the door.

He shook his head, "Nah, seen it before, go ahead." He just turned away as she did it, shuddering as he thought about the times that he'd experienced that. He looked back, it was finished, the doctor listened with the stethoscope for a while, gave him the thumbs up sign and headed off.

He leaned over and gave Doc a kiss on the forehead as he rubbed his hand across her head, then sank back down in the chair. After a while, he nodded off, slumping down in the chair. He woke to the sound of somebody swearing a blue streak, some of it in a foreign language, it took him a few seconds to realize it was Doc, her voice sounded really hoarse. He jumped up to see her struggling against the restraints, bicep muscles straining to the tearing point.

"Whoa, whoa…relax, already! You're ok, settle down!", he tried to soothe her, as he planted a hand on her chest to hold her down.

She looked up at him and fell back against the pillow, gasping, "Francis, thank god! I thought that creep Warren still had me. What the hell is with the restraints?! Is it too fucking much to ask not to be tied hand and foot whenever I regain consciousness?! Dammit!" She yanked hard at the restraints and practically bounced off the pillows in frustration.

"Well, they put them on because you were convulsing and thrashing and trying to tear the tubes out. I'll get them off, just give me a second", he replied as he worked on freeing her. The docs would probably be pissed at him, but they didn't know how crazy this would make her. He finished unbuckling her, "There ya go. How ya feelin' otherwise?" he asked her.

"Like I've been tased and then doped to the gills. Shit, I forgot how much tasing hurts! How long have I been lying here like this? My back hurts like hell." She shifted uncomfortably and rubbed her freed limbs.

"That piece of shit tased you?! I'll kill that bastard!" Francis' face flushed with anger. Warren was going to get a very unpleasant visit from him in the holding cells very soon. Bad enough they had almost killed her with a drug overdose, they tased her first? Jesus, what kind of man tases then drugs a pregnant woman?

"Yeah…get in line. I think I should have the first shot at him. So, I guess the plan kind of worked? Warren and company are out of business and there's a new regime in charge?" She tried to shift over to her side, but was too weak to manage it.

"Yep, worked like a charm. You diverted Warren long enough so that he didn't have a chance to organize any resistance. The majority of the colonists didn't want anything to do with his crap anyway, a lot of them had friends and relatives in his chain gangs. It hasn't taken much convincing to get them on our side. Louis is trying to get them reorganized and weed out any Warren followers. Zoey is fine, she was over here keeping you company for a while", he said as he leaned over her.

"Hmmm, well at least something went according to plan. When can I get out of here, anyway?" she asked as she inspected the chest drain with a frown. "I hate hospitals."

Francis grinned, he knew the feeling. "Probably pretty soon, now that you're finally awake. They'll need to take the drain out and close it, but that should be pretty straight forward."

She shifted around, grimacing in pain. "I've got to shift off my back, it's killing me. Can you give me a hand?" She held her hand out for him to grasp.

"Sure, here. Take it slow…" he clasped hands with her to help her over. She moved to her side, gritting her teeth at the pain.

"Well, this ain't much better. It feels like I fractured it again. This is really gonna be fun without pain meds." She sighed in frustration. She looked over at him, noticing for the first time that he had some dressings on his shoulder under the vest. "What happened to your shoulder? You OK?"

He glanced over at his shoulder, "Oh, that. It's nothing, just a little gunshot wound. All taken care of."

She reached out and laid her hand over his and smiled, "Well, join the shot in the shoulder club, glad you're ok. Why don't you lie down and get some sleep? You look pretty wiped out. I'm fine here, you don't have to hover over me like some giant, tattooed mother hen." She grinned at him and gave him a gentle thump on the chest.

He leaned over and gently hugged her to him and kissed her, then pressed his forehead against hers as he said, "You know, you scared me again. You gotta stop doing that, you're gonna give me a damn heart attack. I love you, you know."

She kissed him back, "I love you, too. Now get some rest before you keel over and crush some poor nurse or something. I'm gonna just chill here and try to nap, too. Just don't let them tie me up again and I promise to be relatively good."

He gave her another kiss and lay down on the cot, relieved that she seemed to be doing ok. He was snoring away in minutes.

She lay back, wincing, the pain was making her head spin. She didn't want Francis to know how much pain she was in, he would just worry and there was nothing anybody could do about it anyway. But she knew one thing for sure, she wouldn't be going anywhere for quite a while. She doubted that she would even be able to walk right now. That was definitely going to screw up the rest of their plan. Grimacing in pain and frustration, she stared at the walls until she finally fell back into a troubled sleep.

Francis awoke, feeling a bit better but starving. For a minute he wasn't even sure where he was, but then he spotted Zoey asleep in the chair next to Doc's bed and it all came back. He got up stretching, his fingers brushing the ceiling tiles. He went over to check on Doc, who was fast asleep. The doctor must have been in at some point, it looked like they had removed the drain and stitched it shut, there was a bandage there instead of the drain. He must have been sleeping hard to sleep through that whole thing.

He left to go find Louis and Argos and see how everything was going in the post-Warren colony and find something to eat. He found Louis at the command center he had established on the ground floor of Warren's old house. Argos was sleeping on a nearby couch, but he bounded up to greet Francis and bash him in the hip with his head. He gave Francis a big grin as he gave him another hearty head bash and wagged his tail, obviously happy to see him. Francis grinned and knelt down to rub and scratch him, there was something infectious about the big dog's happy and carefree attitude.

"Hey Louis, how's it goin'?" Francis asked as he straightened up. "Any problems?"

Louis smiled, "Nope, everything is going really smooth. Almost everyone here is thrilled to be out from under Warren and his goons. There was minimal damage from the fires, and now we're just organizing ourselves and figuring out who wants to do what and when. We've already converted the dining hall into a more cafeteria style place that's open all day and part of the night. Coach and Rochelle are heading that up. Everyone is moving around to find rooms that will accommodate families and couples. I was just going to go check up on you and see whether you would agree to take charge of the security for the colony. I think you would be best suited for that, you've already got a good following of loyal men from the work camp."

Francis gave him a lop-sided grin, "You mean you want me to be the head cop? Your kiddin' right?"

Louis grinned right back at him. "Nope, not kidding. You're perfect for the job. You understand how to set up security and let's face it, you're intimidating as hell. Nobody is going to want to mess with you, you won't have any trouble keeping people in line. So what do you say?"

Francis pondered it for a little while. "All right, but just for now. I don't really think I'm cut out for enforcing rules. I'm more into breakin' 'em than makin' 'em."

Louis just smiled and walked over, he shook Francis' hand as he said, "Welcome aboard, Chief." He clapped Francis on the shoulder, "Go get something to eat and when you're ready, just come back and we can start organizing the security force."

Francis had a quick meal at the dining hall, then grabbed some food to bring back with him to the clinic. He returned to the room to find Doc glowering in bed, casting frowns at Zoey, who stood blocking the door, arms crossed, frowning right back.

"You're just in time. Miss Stubborn here wants to leave, against the doctor's orders. Figured I should keep her here until you had a chance to discuss it. Good freakin' luck, dude, you're gonna need it!" Zoey said as she beat a hasty retreat from the room.

Francis set the food down and approached her. "So, are you hungry? I brought over some food, it's not bad. Not as good as what I can make, but not bad."

She frowned back at him, "No, not hungry. I just want to leave. I'm tired of being used as a combination pin cushion-guinea pig. If it's not Warren's goons pumping me full of dope, it's these guys. They knocked me out again, didn't even talk to me about it first. Woke up with a bunch of stitches and a massive headache. This is getting old fast. They could have just used a damned local instead."

"All right, let me see what I can do about busting you out of here. Will you please eat something, while I go work this out?" He asked as he leaned against the bed rail.

"Fine, just heave it over here. As long as you promise to get me the hell out of here", she said with resignation. He handed the food over to her and kissed her on the forehead.

"Don't worry, I'm on it. Just give me a few minutes to talk with them and I'll be right back" he replied.

He went out into the hall to see whether he could find her doctor and find out what was going on. He finally located her near a nurse's station and went over to talk with her.

"Hey, tattooed bullet-in-the-shoulder guy. How's it going?" she glanced up at him as she scribbled on a chart.

"Can't complain. I was wonderin' whether Doc is good to go, she wants to get out of here." He crossed his arms over his chest as he prepared himself for an argument.

"Yeah, I don't think so. She's in pretty bad shape. She needs IV antibiotics and I'm pretty sure she's fractured her back or slipped a disc, so she should be on pain meds but she's refusing them. If she continues to refuse to eat, we're going to need to tranquilize her and put in a gastric tube," She shook her head with a frown.

"Um, yeah...that would be a big mistake, you'll just make her rabidly uncooperative. I can get her to eat, and she doesn't have to be here for the IV, she can do that anywhere. If she's refusing pain meds, it's because of the pregnancy. That should be her choice, right? Look, why don't I get her out of here and we can just see how she does? She'll either be fine or wind up back here, and you do what you have to do." Francis tried to convince her.

She frowned at him and put the paperwork down, sighing. "All right, we can try it your way. But only because we have limited medical supplies and I don't want to have to use them unless absolutely necessary. You better make it clear to her that if she doesn't improve, she will end up back here tranquilized and with a gastric tube. We've got plenty of both and I'm not afraid to use them. Got it?"

"Yep, crystal. Thanks, doc!" Francis grinned at her and set off to free Doc.

He returned to the room with a big smile, "You're free, darlin'! Come on, let's get you out of here before they change their minds." He took the IV down and handed it to her, then gently scooped her out of the bed. She put her arm around his neck and let him carry her out. He took her over to the command center and told Louis they would take one of the bedrooms upstairs, that way they would be nearby if needed. That was fine with Louis, Zoey had already taken one of the other rooms upstairs and it was fine with him to have them all nearby.

Francis brought her upstairs and laid her down on a bed and hung the IV up for her. "So what's the deal with your back?" he asked her.

She grimaced as she shifted on the bed. "It's OK. I think it was already strained and the tasing just aggravated the old fracture. It was barely holding together as it was, the muscle contractions probably destabilized it. It should be ok in a while. I can tell you one thing, though. I'm not going to be able to go anywhere or do much of anything for weeks, maybe months. I think we're going to have to consider that we have to stay here at least until the baby is born. That's not what we planned, but I think there aren't any other options right now. Unless you feel like carrying me around the whole way."

Francis frowned in thought for a little while. "No thanks, I'll pass on that, as fun as it sounds. I think it'll be fine to stay here for a while. This place will need help getting back on its feet, it's got a decent clinic with real doctors and is the perfect place for you to be when you have the baby. I don't have a problem with staying here. There aren't very many zombies around here yet, maybe we can clear them out and keep them away somehow. This is the safest place we've come to, so far, anyway."

She nodded, "You know, I've been thinking about the virus, and I think there may be some work I could do here that might be helpful. Can you see if you can find my iPad? As long as I'm stuck here, I may as well have something to work on. Otherwise you probably will have to break out the tranquilizers, I'm a pretty lousy patient, I need something to do or I'll go nuts."

He grinned, "Well, I guess I've got my motivation to go find your iPad then. I'll see what I can do. Is there anything else you need right now?"

"Some undivided attention? I miss being with you, you know. It feels really wrong to be separated from you, since we've spent nearly every minute for weeks together."

He leaned close and kissed her. "I promise, I should be back in a couple of hours. I just need to do some stuff with Louis and see if I can find your iPad and maybe the rest of the gear they took from us. Then we'll have some time together. I'm gonna ask Zoey to check in with you to see if you need anything, ok?"

She nodded, pulling herself up against the headboard. "OK. What are you doing with Louis, anyway?"

He grinned back at her, "You're looking at the colony's new chief of security, can you believe it?"

She laughed, "Wow, he's put the fox in charge of the hen house, I think. Just kidding, you're perfect for it, nobody I can think of could do it better. I feel better knowing you're in charge of that, actually. Get out there and do your thing, just be careful, ok? Not everyone here might want to roll over for you guys, you know."

He kissed her again and smiled, "Don't worry, babe. After the undead, this is nothin'."


	36. Fifteen Years PostInfection

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you have all been enjoying the story. To all my faithful readers, congrats, you've made it to the last chapter! I thank you for all of your kind comments and reviews. If you liked the story, please do submit a review and let me know what you thought about it. I'm working on a prequel to this, covering the No Mercy up to Blood Harvest period, so please keep an eye out for it, I should be posting the first parts of it soon. This portion of the story takes place many years after the last chapter.

Francis pulled into the farmyard and jumped off his Harley, parking it next to the red Ducati, looking around at the surrounding fields. The years had changed him little, he was as muscular as ever, maybe a little thicker in the waist. He still kept his hair cropped close, although it was mostly gray now. He pulled off his heavy leather police jacket and slung it on the chromed out hog.

He walked across the yard towards the barn and machine shop. A couple of huge black dogs bounded across the yard, wagging their tails happily. He stopped to pat them as they both repeatedly bashed their heads against him affectionately.

"Watson, Sherlock! You're gonna break my freakin' hip one of these days!" he said as he ruffled their ears. "Where's the kid?"

They grinned and galloped into the machine shop as he followed after. Hunched under the hood of a UTV was a carbon copy of Francis. Nearly as tall as his dad, but not yet as heavily muscled, he straightened when Francis clapped him on the back. He turned, looking at Francis with piercing blue eyes, one of the few things he shared with his mother, aside from his nearly blonde hair, closely cropped like his father's.

"Hey, Pop! How ya doin'?" He looked up with a familiar crooked grin as he wiped his hands on an oily rag. "This sucker's actin' up again. I'm gonna have to scavenge some parts from the old rig."

Francis leaned back against the fender. "Do whatever you gotta do, we're gonna need it soon. As long as the tractor keeps cranking along we should be good for now. Finish up, son, I'm gonna start supper soon. Where's mom?"

The boy looked down at the ground, kicking the oily dirt, "You're not gonna be happy…she took Romeo out, I saw her galloping down by the cornfields. She should be back pretty soon, it's been a while."

Francis scowled, "Goddammit! I thought we settled this…It's too dangerous to go out alone like that! What the hell are we gonna do with her? Shit! Saddle up Magnum for me, you take Indy, I'm gonna get the rifles." He shook his head angrily as he headed toward the house, he really was NOT in the mood for this. He just wanted to eat dinner and kick back with a beer. Just then, he heard the drumming of hoofbeats. Looking around, he spotted a horse and rider cantering across a field, jumping a wide ditch, then leaping over an ascending oxer built into the field fence. They proceeded at a hand gallop toward the yard, then leapt the large hedge bordering the yard, coming to a clattering halt a short distance away.

Francis stood with arms crossed, scowling fiercely. The rider jumped down, loosened the girth and led the stallion towards him, limping slightly. She took her helmet off and buckled it to the saddle, as she made her way up to him. The years hadn't changed her much either. She looked exactly the same as ever, the martial arts classes she taught, and the regular riding kept her fit enough. Her hair had not yet grayed, but she was starting to get some wrinkles, particularly where she smiled.

He eyed her, scowling, the mud on her side, back and helmet, along with the limp told him everything he needed to know. "Again, really?! Are you trying to kill yourself, or what?"

She gave him a crooked grin as she stopped in front of him and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. The horse leaned past her and stuck his face in, lipping at Francis' ear. She laughed, "See, even Romeo wants to kiss you! How can you be mad at us now?"

He sighed, leaning over to kiss her properly while simultaneously fending off the equine affection. "Please, I'm begging you…wait until one of us can go with you! If you get hurt or run into some infected out there, nobody's gonna be there to help! You gotta stop doin' this, ok?"

She turned and ran the stirrups up and began leading the horse in a circle around him. "Francis, you know nobody can keep up. There's no point, anyone coming along will be left in the dust or I'll have to ride like I'm on a kid's pony ride, bored stiff. I can't leg up horses by leisurely strolling around. I stayed on the property, OK?"

"No, not OK. I'm gonna hire one of those girls you trained to go out with you, they can keep up and then you can do two horses at once. And stop limping around with that damned animal." He turned toward the machine shop and bellowed. "Will! Come help your mother!"

"Busy, Pop!" the boy yelled back.

"William Overbeck Liddell! Get your tail over here NOW!" Francis roared. His son ran out immediately, skidding to a stop near him. He looked up at Francis with an apologetic expression.

"Walk Romeo out and untack him, please. SOMEBODY'S had another fall, I'm gonna patch her up, AGAIN…" he looked at her, shaking his head. "Come on…" He leaned over to scoop her up.

"Francis!" she protested as he pulled her into his arms. "You don't have to do that, I can get there under my own power, you know." She sighed in resignation as he carried her into the old farmhouse.

"It's just like old times, can't resist it. You, doing some boneheaded thing. Me, having to scrape you off the ground, lug you off and patch you back together. Some things just never change, darlin'." He grinned at her, shaking his head. He laid her down on the couch, kneeling down next to her.

"One of these days, there ain't gonna be enough left to scrape off the ground, unless you're more careful…" He frowned down at her as he took a closer look at the damage.

She ruffled his hair with a wry smile. "You worry too much, law man. You forget that I'm damned near invincible. What more do I have to do to prove it to you?"

"Hmmm…if you're so invincible, why are you gimping around?" he asked, his brow arched.

She shrugged, "Slipped on the approach to that uphill Trakehner, Romeo tipped over on me. I twisted my back a little, no big deal. Don't need to make a federal case out of it. Just leave me here and go get your dinner, OK? I'm fine."

"No you're not. You always say that, and it's never true. Hang on, I'll start supper and be right back with some ice." He went off to the kitchen and started some water boiling and got out some chicken.

He could never get too angry with her, no matter what she did, he owed her too much. He thought back to the night Will was born, as he started prepping the meal. The pregnancy had been a nightmare, with so many complications. She was sick as a dog for most of it and in constant pain from her back injury. It all eventually ended in an emergency c-section that didn't go well. She sacrificed nearly everything to give him a son. The baby came through with flying colors, but she almost didn't make it. He remembered holding Will as he sat near her bed, watching in helpless despair as she slowly faded away. Another emergency surgery, which ensured William would be her last child, tipped the scales in her favor and she eventually pulled through. It was a tough start for Will, having to rely solely on Francis until Doc was well enough to help care for him, but he managed to get through it. Of course, he had plenty of support from Zoey and Louis and the others, as well as some friends he'd made among the colonists. Turns out, once he quit glowering down at them, people actually liked him and he easily made friends.

He got some ice out for her, then stopped in the laundry room to get some shorts and a shirt for her to change out of her muddy riding clothes. He helped her change, noting a big scrape on her side and back and some bruising on her shoulder. If he looked closely, he could still see the scars from many years ago scattered among her tattoos, bullet wounds mixed with wounds from those damned vampires, a huge scar from that nasty abscess. He shook his head with a wry smile, it was like a map of her past adventures. He applied the ice wrapped in a towel to her back, then went off to go get the antiseptic and some ointment for the scrapes. She really should just keep the stuff in her pocket since she was still a regular user, he thought to himself. Their little farm seemed to offer her endless opportunities for injuries.

They had been one of the first ones to move out of the colony compound, once they had virtually eradicated the infected from the surrounding area. Doc had been a big part of that. During the long months that she was laid up in bed, she figured out how they had made the virus and came up with a strategy to neutralize it. The solution she came up with was quite clever, using a virus to fight a virus. She was able to obtain some insect baculovirus from a nearby abandoned research facility and adapt it to target infected. By infecting flies that were attracted to rotted flesh, they were able to use them as a vector to carry the modified virus which she designed. Any zombie bitten by the flies became infected with the modified virus, which encoded proteins which interacted with the Green Flu virus and caused the zombie's organs to liquefy. They literally melted into bags of inert goo within days of infection. Any wild flies that bit the infected zombies would also carry the new virus, helping to spread it. Each year they released virus carrying flies on the boundaries of the territory they had already cleared, resulting in the colony recovering hundreds of acres every year.

Since then, colonists had gradually been spreading out from the colony, retaking the land from the undead. They farmed and provided food for the other colonists. Francis and Doc had used their farm to raise beef, poultry and eggs, horses as well as dogs, all descendants of the original Argos, specially trained to protect livestock and hunt zombies. Doc did most of the training, she used the horses to keep up with the dogs during the hunts. Every year they did large organized hunts through the recovered territories to eradicate any zombies that hadn't been killed by the newly engineered virus.

Francis remained the chief of police for the colony and its immediate surrounding territory. Over the years he'd discovered his hidden talents in getting people to resolve their little differences. In the next few years he hoped to retire and work with Doc on their little farm. He would miss the police work, but it was really getting to be a much bigger responsibility as the colonists multiplied and spread out, perfect for a couple of younger guys. He could barely believe it, but he'd already celebrated his 50th birthday. In the midst of the apocalypse, he would have taken any bet that he wouldn't see 37, but here he was. And he never forgot that one of the main reasons he was still kicking around was lying all dinged up on the couch out there.

He started the chicken cooking and headed back to the couch. "Hey, darlin', how's it feelin'?"

She scooted over to give him room to sit down. "It's ok, probably be pretty sore tomorrow though. It's tough getting old." She smiled back at him.

He spread ointment on the scrapes. "Yeah, I know the feelin'. I still can't believe I'm fifty. And you're what now?" He gave her a little smirk. He didn't know how old she was, she steadfastly refused to tell him. Given all the little clues he'd discovered over the years, he figured that she might be a couple years older than he was. At this point he actually looked a bit older than she did, due to the graying hair. It was Doc's little secret that she was actually almost ten years older than Francis, she looked much younger than her true age.

"Wow, that might be your lamest attempt so far to weasel my age out of me." She laughed and stretched out. "What difference does it make, anyway, at this point? Afraid I'll start looking for somebody my own age? Never happen, cowboy. We have way too much chemistry, and history." She rolled toward him and pulled him down for a kiss. He began to kiss her deeply as he ran his hand along her soft skin.

"Ughh. Would you two give it a rest?" Will strode past the couch, shielding his eyes from the sight of them kissing and touching each other. "Geez, get a room or somethin'."

They both just laughed, thinking back about how often they heard that, years ago in the tiny little safe-rooms. If they had paid much mind to it, Will probably wouldn't even be standing there. Francis replied, "Hell, son, we have a whole house here with lots of rooms. You can always find a different one if we're botherin' you." Will just rolled his eyes as he smiled back at them, he was just teasing, he knew they truly loved each other and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Francis grinned back at him, then leaned over and kissed her some more. He couldn't help thinking that, as strange as it might seem, the zombie apocalypse was the best thing that ever happened to him. He went through a complete transformation from an antisocial, vicious, thug into a respected and well-loved member of the community, with the best family and friends a man could ask for, and it only took one of the worst disasters to ever hit mankind to get it done.


End file.
